Chuck VS Season Four
by CodeNameChuck
Summary: Takes place after the Season Three Finale. Chuck has to find his mother, but he's not the only one looking for her.
1. New Beginnings

**New Beginnings**

Chuck Bartowski's hand pressed his mother's metal charm against the steering wheel, causing the shape to form upon his skin. Eyes blurred with tears, he drove quickly, wanting to get to back there, back to his new purpose in life. His mother.

"Chuck, please, tell me where we are going. Tell me what's wrong." Sarah Walker's beautiful face was stricken with worry, her right hand was clenching her leg as her left softly ran up and down Chuck's arm. She was so pretty, so smart, so perfect. Chuck still couldn't believe he had managed to end up with her. But she was so much more than a pretty face. He trusted her, more than anyone. That's why she had to see it. She could help him, she would.

"I... Sarah, I can't explain. You need to see it."

Sarah's eyes softened. "Is this about your father?"

Chuck's stomach dropped at the mere mention of his dad. He blinked furiously, determined to hold back any tears.

Sarah put her head down. "I've been a spy for so long, seen so many innocent people die, and I still don't understand how someone can so easily, so casually, take another's life."

Chuck laughed bitterly. "Put yourself in Shaw's shoes, Sarah. He lost his wife. He was doing what he thought was best to honor her memory. God, if anything happened to you... well, I don't know what I would do, but for all I know, it may be something like what Shaw did."

"No." Sarah's hands grasped Chuck's arm. He winced from the pain. He forgot sometimes that Sarah was a trained spy.

Stopping at a red light, he turned and looked at her. "How do you know that?"

"Nothing will ever happen to me. I will never leave you."

The light turned green, but Chuck couldn't move his eyes away from hers. He moved his hand up to softly caress her cheek. "Everything that's happened today, well, yesterday by now, but.. well, it's just you... well..."

Sarah smiled at Chuck's bumbling as he took a minute to breathe. "I love you, Sarah Walker."

"And I love you, Chuck Bartowski." Their heads drew closer together, and Chuck's heart raced. No matter how many times they did this, his heart always raced. As their lips were about to touch, a loud honk came out of nowhere, causing them both to jump. They both smiled as Chuck hit the gas.

They drove in silence for a while, before Chuck pulled into a driveway, up to an older house. "What is this place, Chuck?"

Chuck popped open the driver's side door, than turned and looked at her. "This is where I grew up."

Sarah nodded. "I can see why you would want to come back here. Do you want me to come in with you?"

"Yes, there's something I must show you, something I found, earlier tonight..."

Sarah's eyebrows creased in curiosity. "Okay." She stepped outside the car, and together, they walked in the house. Her hand grasped his as they entered the house. She stared at the inside, all the furniture covered by white sheets, that were in turn covered by layers upon layers of dust. Chuck turned and walked towards a red door that was partly open, pulling Sarah along. They entered a room that was smallish in nature. Chuck went up to the light switch and flicked it once, than again. No light was coming on.

"Chuck, its been a while since you lived here, I don't think the power is turned..." Sarah stopped midsentance as she saw the floor move, the tiles shift right in front of the fireplace, and a staircase appeared. She turned and looked back at Chuck, who still had the same grim look on his face. "What is that?"

"That, Sarah, would be my father's Batcave." He held his hand out. Sarah eyes were moving so quickly right now, he could see her brain working. She took his hand, and together, they went down the steps.

It was dark down there, though there were lights, and computers were still working. Chuck figured that his father had tapped into some secret power source or something. But he wasn't looking at his surroundings. He was looking at Sarah. Looking at her as she took in the hundreds, maybe even thousands of filing drawers, each with individual tags indicating what was inside upon them. Sarah did a complete scan of the room, than looked up at Chuck. "Your father has been busy while he's been on the run." It wasn't a question.

"Very busy." Chuck replied. "It's clear he was here a lot, so close to me and Ellie... I wish he would have came and saw us more."

"He did it to keep you safe. When did you find out about this place?"

"About an hour and a half ago. Come on, I have something you need to see." Chuck didn't grab her hand this time. His eyes were fixed on one cabinet, one file, and that's all he could see right now.

Sarah followed him until he stopped, than stood beside him, following his eyes to see what he was staring at. She read it softly, in a loud whisper. "Mary Elizabeth Bartowski: Missing." Chuck winced. It hurt him to hear it out loud. Sarah wedged herself in-between him and the cabinet, and wrapped her arms around him. "Chuck, is that your mother?

Chuck put his eyes on her, fire blazing in them. "Yes, and we are going to find her."

Sarah nodded as she laid her head on his chest. "I'm with you, Chuck. No matter what, we will find her."

* * *

Hugo Longhi relaxed in his comfortable leather chair, his long hair hanging off the back of it. What a wonderful gift from his boss. Ten years of service, of being a personal assistant, and a rather comfortable paycheck as well. He was only slightly jealous of the field workers. Even though their paychecks were much larger, the turnover rate was much higher. Hugo chose life over riches.

The phone rang. It was the private line, one that very rarely ever rang. It was eight years before Hugo's boss trusted Hugo enough to let him answer that line. Hugo reached to pick it up. "Mr. Caplan's office, Hugo here, how may I help you?"

Whatever was said on the other side, Hugo's eyes widened, and he sat up quickly in his chair. "What? No, I believe you. Yes, of course I'll tell him. Bye." Throwing the phone down, Hugo got up as quickly as a man of his stature could, and ran into the door behind him without knocking, something he had never done before. White light blinded him as he walked in, as the whole wall opposite the door was a window, and the sun was streaming in, causing Mr. Caplan and his desk to become dark figures. "Mr. Caplan?"

His deep voice answered. "What is it Mr. Longhi?"

Hugo took a deep breath. "It's Stephen Bartowski, sir. He's dead." Mr. Caplan's shadow shifted slightly.

"Do you know what this means, Mr. Longhi?"

"It means that the CIA will go into lockdown, and it means that more than likely, they are going to move her."

Mr. Caplan laughed, loud and deep. "Yes, soon, hopefully, we will have Mary in our custody. Now Mr. Longhi, go and call the other partners. Tell them to meet me here, as soon as they possibly can. It's time for the Fornax Group to meet once again."


	2. Gathering Scraps

**Any comments or suggestions you guys have, I would greatly appreciate.**

**Gathering Scraps**

Chuck Bartowski threw down a file in disgust, got up of the chair and walked over to the nearest row of filing cabinets, laying his head against it with a groan. "This is pointless. There's just too much material here to go through."

Casey grunted as Sarah spoke up. She was wearing a purple blouse. He liked the color purple on her. Heck, he liked every color on her. "Sit down Chuck, come on, we can do this. Let's start from the beginning, work out everything we know for sure."

"That sure of a hell isn't a lot. All these files, and not one flash from Bartowski here. And since his father had an Intersect, I would have guessed he'd be flashing for us more than Lindsay Lohan." Casey took a swig of his coffee as Chuck sat back down.

It had been a frustrating week for Chuck, he thought as he held his head in his hands. His father's funeral, and now all this worrying about his mother. And guilt. Guilt that his father had died, because of him, and guilt towards Ellie. He had promised her that he would retire from the CIA, yet here he was, busy working like a spy as always. He couldn't tell her what he was doing, and get her hopes up. And still with no job to boot, the Buy More was blown up and the home office wasn't going to rebuild it. He supposed he'd better update his resume, but right now, that seemed so inconsequential.

The sound of rustling papers shook Chuck out of his thoughts. Sarah was flipping through a vanilla file that they had put all the most relevant files from the Mary Elizabeth Bartowski filing drawer in. They had looked through those papers so many times. "My guess," Sarah said, "is that Steven purposely didn't include any documents or pictures in any of these files that anyone could flash on, so in case an enemy found this place, and they happened to have their own Intersect, they couldn't glean even more from all this information."

"That sorta makes sense, though my dad did send me here, so you'd think he would have let me know how to flash on anything."

"Well, we don't have time to speculate," Casey said. "Let's get back to your mother, we can't worry about something your father may or may not have done."

"Mary Elizabeth Bartowski," Sarah started. "Disappeared May, 1991. Ellie and you were lead to believe she just left you."

"Why didn't my father tell me? If not when I was a child, than why not now, during this past year?"

"More than likely the same reason you won't tell your sister we are doing this," Casey said, looking Chuck dead in the eye.

"Touché." Chuck bowed his head.

"Your father was sure that Mary was being held by the CIA, but he never could find her. He managed to find places where he thought that she was previously held at, but that's it. And that's pretty much the end of all the concrete information. There are countless papers with references to other organizations and people that may know something about Mary that I'm sure we could find more about somewhere within this room, but that's it."

"What was that name, again? The one dad had last questioned?"

"Uh, just a second…"

Casey interrupted her. "Malordore. Marlordore Trinsburg."

"Yes, that's it. Location, Pennsylvania. Your father last wrote he was going to see her, but nothing is written after that. It's the last thing in this file, according to the time stamps."

"So we don't even know if he made it out to see her before he… before he…"

"No," filled in Casey. He tapped the handle of a knife against the wood table, thump, thump, thump, as he spoke. "Or he could have gone and seen her, and just didn't make it back here yet to update the file."

"Well, we have to go see her. It's the only lead we have." Chuck looked at Sarah. "Unless you have another idea?" He could already tell she did.

"We are assuming that your father was correct, that the CIA is holding your mother. I'd like to try and verify that before we head east."

"My father was sure."

"Well than maybe we can get new intell. Casey, you are perfectly positioned to ask someone high up about it."

He nodded his head. "You guys are lucky I managed to convince Beckman I should be the one to stay here and guard the retired Intersect. Took a lot, considering one of the world's most dangerous ex-spies is his girlfriend."

"In any matter, if you could just find out if she knows anything. She always liked you best, Casey." The expected grunt followed that.

Chuck looked over at Sarah. "So what do we do?"

"We go to see an old friend of mine." She stood up, her long legs catching Chuck's eyes. The miniskirt was very… mini. Chuck blushed. "Lets get moving. We've talked long enough."

* * *

Chuck loved watching Sarah's hair blow in the wind. It was a hot day out, so she had the top down on her car. Watching her was better than watching Dune on Blu Ray.

"Don't turn around Chuck," she suddenly said, her voice tight and tense. "Look straight ahead."

Never one to argue, Chuck did exactly what she said. Not sure if he could speak, he whispered to her, "What's wrong?"

"We are being tailed. Blue car behind us."

"Blue? That's odd."

"Why's that odd?"

"Cuz the bad guys cars always seem to be black."

Sarah smiled, but it looked forced. "Okay, okay, I know I'm going to do. Chuck, I'm going to pull over. Get the gun out of the glove box. If they do pull over, we'll take them."

Chuck fumbled for the gun. "Do you need one?"

"No, I've got one on me."

Chuck looked her up and down, dressed in a tight blouse and short mini skirt. "I can't possibly imagine where."

Sarah giggled, which was so cute Chuck wanted to grab her and take her right there. Stupid bad guys, stopping him from being spontaneous. "Okay Chuck, here we go!" She did a complete 180 degree turn, spinning off onto the side of the country road. Chuck lurched forward, somehow forgetting he didn't have a seat belt on, and banged his head off the dash. Darkness fell.

* * *

Sarah groaned as she unbuckled her seat belt, than lurched to her right to pull Chuck up. The one time he forgets to where his seat belt, she thought. The car that had been tailing them stopped about twenty feet in front of Sarah's car, and a man jumped out, in a dark suit, and hide behind his door, a strategic position for a gunfight. Sarah followed his suit.

BANG BANG BANG. Bullets bounced off both their doors. Back and forth they fired, until there was silence. Was he out of bullets? Or was he trying to lure her out? She didn't care, she was taking him now, she decided. Go for it, and don't look back. She stood up, watching him stand up at the exact same time, both of their weapons pointed at the other. They both pulled the triggers, and both heard clicks. "Damn it," Sarah swore. They both were out. This is my chance, she thought.

Moving out from behind the car door, she ran towards the man. She always was a better fighter than shooter. Leave the guns to Casey. She quickly glanced back at Chuck. He was still out. Looking back in front of her, the man was running towards her. All too soon, they met.

The man was about six three, with an average build. He was older, brown hair with grey streaks running through it. His face was emotionless as Sarah's. He knows what he doing, she thought.

He threw a punch at her head, and she ducked, sliding to try and kick his legs out from under him. He managed to dive sideways to avoid her slide, but she latched onto his foot and flipped him so he landed flat on his back on the hard pavement. A loud thump indicated he had nailed his head. She went to jump up, but before she could, he was on top of her.

A punch straight to the mouth forced her head to repel off the road. He kneed her in the gut, and she groaned, than brought her hips up and tried to buck him off. It didn't work, but it distracted him long enough that she managed to get a round house punch in that connected with his left cheek.

Dazed from the vicious punch, he clumsily tried to wrap his hands around her neck. She smiled, tasting her own blood. Bringing her knees up quickly, she pushed against his rear with her powerful legs and threw him over her head. Another loud thump indicated he had once again knocked his head off the pavement, and this one proved to be the last he could take. Blood trickled onto the pavement out of his head, but he would live. She stood up, than smiled as she saw Chuck running towards her.

"Sarah, Sarah, are you okay?" He ran up to her in a full panic, and wrapped her in his arms. God, that felt so good.

"Yea, I'm good. He put up a good fight, but he made a mistake. I got him."

"I'm so sorry, I should have been there for you, I could have used the Intersect and crushed him…"

Sarah gave him an amused look. "I can take care of myself, Charles Bartowski." Chuck smiled and put his head down. She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss. "Though the fact that you are here to take care of me makes me so… I can't think of the word."

"Horny?"

"Chuck!" Sarah laughed as she mock pushed him, than her eyes got wide as she saw the man she had knocked out, the man she had fought, running towards his car. She took off after him, but before she could get near he had jumped in and peeled out of there. "Damn it," she yelled, kicking a small stone. "Now we won't know who he is."

"Now what do we do?"

Sarah started back towards the car. "We go see my friend."

* * *

"So, as you can see, General Beckman, there really isn't that much to report. Chuck is still grieving over his father's death, and half heartedly looking for a new place of employment."

The redhead on the television screen nodded. "Good to hear, Colonel Casey. Thank you for your report. I'll see you again in three days." Beckman went to turn the camera off when Casey raised his hand, stopping her. "Yes, John?"

"I do have one question, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all. What is it?"

"I've just been wondering, is there anyway we can use our team at the NSA to find Chuck's mom for him? I know she left Chuck and Ellie when they were little, and now that their dad is gone, I thought it might be nice to try and track her down for them."

Beckman's eyes narrowed, and her voice got that sharp tone in it. "She is dead. When we first came across the Charles Bartowski, we looked her up. She is dead."

"How?" Casey asked.

"I don't remember, Colonel. Is that all?"

"Stephen Bartowski had files, files that indicated Mary Bartowski might be in CIA custody?"

General Beckman's face turned even redder. "I told you, she is dead. She is not in anyone's custody. I suggest you stop asking questions and digging up old, dead and buried bones if you want to keep your current mission, Colonel Casey. That's an order." With that, she turned off the screen.

Casey smiled. Beckman knew something about Chuck's mother, that was for sure. And that meant there was more stuff to figure out. They might pull this off yet, he thought as he headed out of Castle.


	3. First Blows

**First Blows**

The phone of Hugo Longhi's desk rang once again. He sighed. This had turned into one of those kind of days. He doubted he would be allowed to leave tonight.

"Mr. Caplan's office, how may I help you?"

"Hugo, it's Eureka. I have a situation to report."

Great, Hugo thought. Just what he needed. "Wait, aren't you supposed to be tailing the Bartowski's son?"

"Yes, I was…"

"Than why aren't you." Hugo interrupted.

"I was getting to that," the man called Eureka said over the phone, obviously disgruntled. None of the field agents liked the level of trust that Mr. Caplan put in Hugo. They didn't think he deserved it, being an office guy. "I was tailing them and the CIA agent with him spotted me, and cut me off. We got into a tussle and I lost."

"You lost to a girl," Hugo asked, amused.

"She was good, real good."

"Why would she reveal her cover to Charles Bartowski? The CIA planted her there, to keep an eye on Stephen Bartowski. Charles just thinks she his girlfriend."

"No, you're wrong. Charles Bartowski has an intersect."

"What," Hugo yelled, shocked at this revelation. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I heard him refer to it directly."

"His father must have given it to him. Sneaky little bastard."

"And if his father gave him an intersect…"

" … than his father may have also passed down intelligence to him, intelligence we need," Hugo finished. "Okay, try and find them again, and this time, don't lose them. They've just become a top priority."

"Alright. How's everything coming along with Trinsburg? Is Caplan sending Hydra to get her?"

"Its Mr. Caplan. And no, why would we use Hydra on such an easy job? I think Athena is grabbing her, and even she is overqualified, she's just in Pennsyvania, so she's close. She'll get Trinsburg, and than we can find out everything she knows about Mary Bartowski."

* * *

Chuck nervously tapped his right knee with his hand as Sarah drove along the road. They had reached the suburbs. Chuck shuddered. He had bad memories of the suburbs… nasty little places with secrets and Fulcrum agents. Not a good mix. And if the suburb was clear of Fulcrum, or any other deadly spies, than there was the desperate housewife type, and that show scared the crap out of him more than Alien Vs Predator. Looking over at Sarah, he reached over and with his thumb, gently wiped off a drop of blood that had slowly started to make its way down her chin from her lip. She smiled her thanks.

"So, who is this mysterious friend we are going to see? Do I have a reason to be jealous," he asked teasingly.

Sarah laughed, causing Chuck to close his eyes in delight. "Hardly. You know who it is."

Chuck's mouth dropped. "Don't tell me Bryce is alive… again!"

"No silly, we saw his body."

"Hmm… than I have no idea who it is."

"Well, you don't have to wait any longer, cause we are here." With those words, Sarah pulled into a nicely paved driveway, which lead up to a tan house that looked almost exactly like all the other ones in this neighborhood. Chuck jumped out of the car quickly, and ran around the front. Sarah paused in her seat, looking at him oddly, until he ran up to the driver's side door and opened it for her. She gave him a radiant smile. "Aww. I think that deserves a kiss." Chuck blushed, kicking himself mentally for that as she reached up and put her lips on his. Either five seconds or an hour later, he emerged. "And just so you know, dear, I love it when you blush."

"Let's just go inside before I turn any redder, though I'm not sure that's possible."

"I know how I could make you redder," Sarah whispered in his ear, mischievous smile on her face as she ran a hand up his thigh. Chuck grabbed her hand and tried to give her a stern look, but they both ended up laughing, falling against one another as they headed up towards the porch of the house.

"Thank you," Chuck softly told her.

"For what?"

"For helping heal the wounds of last week, when I lost him."

Sarah looked at him, eyes blazing with passion. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

They reached the door, and Chuck knocked three times. "Now Chuck, don't be too shocked when we get in here. And this must remain a secret, between you and me. Not even this man's family knows he is alive."

Chuck nodded his head, mind racing trying to think of who possibly could be in this modest house. A maid answered the door.

"Is today a good day," Sarah asked?

"Yes, Miss. Walker, today is a good day. Come in, come in, you know where he is. He is awake, and his mind is clearer today than normal."

"Good." Grabbing Chuck's hand, she led him into the modestly furnished house, down a hallway, and into a room on the left. There lay a bed, with various medical machines hooked up all around it. Whoever was on the bed seemed to be in a full body cast, and Chuck couldn't tell who it was until Sarah led him up to the side of the bed, and he got a look at the man's face. When he looked into the man's eyes, he fell back, astonished.

"Director Graham!"

"Hello Chuck," he said in a pained voice, but one that still held the gruffness Chuck remembered from the old CIA director.

"How are you alive? Fulcrum blew you up."

"It'll take a lot more than a bomb to take me down." Graham started to say something else, than went off on a wheezing fit. When he calmed down, gained control of his body, he continued. "I'll never be able to leave this bed again, but I am alive. Sarah was right, you are different, but still the same."

"I'm just really happy to see you, Director."

"Thank you. Now I'm really tired, and I tend to fall asleep in mid-sentence, so you two had better get to the point."

"Yes Langston," Sarah said, as Chuck mouthed the word Langston at her. She mock glared at him as she continued. "What do you know about Mary Elizabeth Bartowski?"

There was no answer from Director Graham for quite a while, and Chuck could feel the tension grow in the room. Finally, he said, "Why do you need to know?"

"Chuck wants to find his mother, and we came across some information that suggested the CIA was holding her."

Another long pause. "May I suggest to both of you, be careful what you dig up. The CIA doesn't like airing it's dirty laundry for everyone to see, and it will stop at nothing to make sure it isn't."

"We are well prepared to take any risks we need to, Langston." At that, Chuck grabbed Sarah's arm, but she looked at him, firmly, and he nodded. "I know you are still held to your old oaths, but can you give us any information, any at all? We are going to go talk now to a woman, Marlordore Trinsburg, who might know something, but if you could add anything…" she trailed off, stressing the word anything.

Graham was silent for the longest time yet, and when he did speak, it was in a whisper, one that caused Chuck and Sarah to lean closer to hear him. His voice screamed caution. "Look up Operation Cygnus."

"Thank you, Langston, thank you so much." Sarah moved her hand to his cheek, the part of his body he had exposed.

"I'm tired, I need to sleep," Graham said. "Thanks for coming. I always love seeing you, Samantha."

Sarah bowed her head, and together Chuck and her started out the door, until Graham spoke again. "Charles, can I have a word with you? In private?"

Chuck looked at Sarah and she nodded her head. "I'll be in the car." She left.

Chuck walked back up to the side of the bed, and knelt. "What is it, sir?"

"Charles, Sarah, well, Sarah is like a daughter to me. I recruited her. She is the only person I trusted to tell I still live. I need you to protect her."

Chuck smiled. "She's very capable sir, I assure you."

"I know that. And you already protect her emotionally. What a change I've seen in her the past three years… but that's off the point. This accident has made me sentimental. Point is, the reason I wanted to talk to you, Chuck, is she would give her life for you."

Chuck bowed his head. "I know."

"Don't let it come to that, Chuck. No mission is worth losing your love."

Chuck stood up, fire in his eyes. "Don't worry sir, I won't." He turned around to leave, and stopped once more at Graham's voice.

"Chuck?"

"Yes?"

"Forces beyond your control are at work. Good luck. You are going to need it."

* * *

Athena slowly crept in through the front door. The lock had been so easy to pick. This Marlordore Trinsburg didn't have very good security for a retired CIA agent. Mr. Caplan would be very proud of her for this. Pretty soon, people would be calling her the female Hydra. She smiled, daydreaming about the praise that would surround her, when a loud bang shook her out of her dreams. A gunshot, than another. Athena hit the ground. The old bird was firing at her!

Pulling her pistol out of her pants, she crawled behind the couch. A shot hit the couch, and Athena shouted out from behind the couch, "Hold fire! I'm a fellow agent, I'm here to talk."

"Than why did you force your way in?" Marlordore's voice was tired, and old. Spies aged so fast. And obviously their brains did too. Marlordore's voice gave away her location, and Athena jumped up, black hair swirling as she leapt over the couch and towards the kitchen, where she spotted the old woman. Marlordore got three more shots off, slightly grazing Athena's neck with the one, before she ran out of bullets. Athena held her gun on the woman, she had to take her alive!

"Don't move. Everything will be okay."

"Like hell it will!" With that, the scrawny woman leapt at Athena, tackling her to the ground, wrestling with her for her gun. Athena was shocked at the old woman's strength, and was even more shocked when she heard the gun go off. Marlordore went limp, and Athena rolled the woman's body off of her with a groan. Shot in the chest. How would she ever explain this to Mr. Caplan?

Athena gathered up Marlordore's laptop, and a few files that looked relevant, and threw them in her backup, than headed back out to her car. This would not be a fun phone call.

* * *

As the door swung shut, Marlordore's eyes popped open. She couldn't believe that woman hadn't checked to see if she was actually dead. She knew she was dying, that was sure, but she still had a few breaths left in her old, tired lungs. And she had to leave a message.

Now that she was going to die, she could abandon her old oaths, just once, she decided. To help Mary Bartowski. Mary had been her friend, she deserved better, so much better. And there was guilt. Guilt that it all had been covered up. Guilt that she had participated. Oh yes, she would abandon her oaths, just this once. The CIA had done many great things, but that one thing, weighed above all others, at least in her mind. Operation Cygnus. Dipping her finger in her blood that was pooling on her chest, she wrote on her wood floor, praying that neither the CIA nor the enemy group, the group that had killed her, would be the ones to find her message. Somehow, someway, she needed Stephen Bartowski, Mary's husband, to find it. She needed a miracle.

Her finger kept moving, blood ink running dry, finger moving slower, until her last breath left her, along with thirty years worth of guilt. She was free.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please comment if you have anything to review or suggest, I appreciate it a lot. :)**


	4. Protect Her

**Protect Her**

**20 Years Ago…**

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Stephen Bartowski was relaxing in his back yard. Laying in a lawn chair and sipping an ice cold lemonade was the perfect way to spend a hot June day. He watched as little Chuck and Ellie played a game of tag around the yard, though it seemed to him it was more a game of tackle. Though it was a safe one, Ellie never wanted to hurt a fly. Always wanting to fix things, that child…

Smiling, turned over in his chair to face his beautiful wife. Married fifteen years, yet Mary still took his breath away. She glanced away from the book she was reading, and smiled back at him. "I'm surprised you aren't working. It's the middle of the day and you aren't in your hideaway."

Stephen managed to keep a fake smile on his face, but his stomach overturned. His mind drifted back to yesterday. He was working on a special computer, for the US government. Unlike Busgang and Zarnow, he preferred to work at home, closer to his family. Yesterday, he had ran an image retention test, and he had… froze, he guessed was the word. It was like he was in a trance. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened to him yet. He guessed he was just hypnotized for a short time. He sure didn't remember all the images that had flashed before him in that short time. But after that, he had decided to take a rare day off. "I just wanted to spend sometime with you, dear, you and the kids."

"How sweet of you. Look, you're out of lemonade, I'll go get you some more dear."

"No, no, don't worry bout it, I'll go fill up a pitcher."

"Love you Stevie."

Stephen smiled at his pet name as he walked into the house. He didn't want his wife to get up when she was relaxing. Years ago, before they had met, she had worked for the CIA. An accident had happened in Africa on some mission, though, and she had hurt her leg. She had been forced to retire, though she did get a rather nice pension. She seemed to blame the CIA for what had happened to her, though Stephen really even wasn't sure what did happen. Fifteen years they had been together and she hadn't brought it up much at all. He guessed it was a really bad time in her life, and he didn't want to bring up bad memories.

He was about to carry the pitcher out to the backyard when he heard the front doorbell ring. "I've got it sweetie." Putting the lemonade pitcher on the counter, he jogged to the front door. Opening it, two very intimidating large men were standing there. Both wearing black suits, and both looking like they could crush walnut shells with their hands. The one on the right spoke up.

"We need to speak to Mary Bartowski."

Stephen paused. He wasn't getting a good feeling from these guys. "May I ask what for?"

The man on the left shifted, and the sun reflected off his watch. Stephen's eyes involuntarily went down to look at the man's wrist, and when he saw the watch, Stephen's brain… froze, he guessed, and images started flashing through his mind, blocking out his normal sight so nothing was visible but the images. Those images were everything…

_**-a picture of a falling tree-**_

_**-a large tower in the middle of a forest-**_

_**-what looked like a company photo where everyone was wearing suits-**_

_**-a folder with the name Fornax Group on it-**_

_**-dead bodies, strewn everywhere-**_

_**-back to the picture of the fallen tree-**_

… and just as suddenly as Stephen was thrust into that mind image takeover, he was out of it, and he stumbled backwards, lightheaded and confused. What the hell was that? Looking at the men in his doorway, he realized they looked like they were waiting for an answer. Weakly, Stephen said, "Can you repeat that, please?"

The man on the left spoke. "We represent a charity organization. We need to see your wife."

"Hmm. I've never heard of a charity called The Fornax Group before."

Both men looked visibly startled. "Where did you hear that name," demanded the man on the left, Stephen guessed the other one didn't speak, or was just hired muscle.

"It doesn't matter. Mary's not here, you will have to come back later." Or never, he thought to himself. Whoever these people were, they were not good people, Stephen could have known that without the strange image mind flashes.

Both men glared at Stephen, obviously rattled by his knowledge of the name of their organization, but Stephen just smiled and closed the door, saying "Good day," as he did so.

Once the door was closed, he leaned back against the door, breathing heavily. Those men were evil, of that he was sure. And they wanted to talk to his wife. Could they be looking to settle a grudge, from her old CIA days? They both looked a little young for that, but they very easily could have been hired by someone. Whoever they were, they would not get to speak to his wife. He would make sure of that.

As he walked back into the kitchen to grab the lemonade, he decided on a plan. He would talk to Charles, his best friend, who his son Chuck was named after. He was a spy in the CIA; Mary's old partner. He would see if Charles had heard of this Fornax Group, and what they possibly might want with his wife. He made it to the backyard and refilled his wife's glass of lemonade.

"Who was it at the door dear?"

"Some old salesman. Clone of Willy Lohman if I've ever seen one. I let him take our number at least, felt bad for the old guy."

"Aww, how sweet of you."

As Stephen started to sit back down in his chair, Ellie and Chuck ran up to him. Seeing them coming, he got on his knees, and bear hugged them both, while they tried to wrestle him to the ground. Laughing and screaming ensued, and only got louder when he felt Mary do an Indian holler and jump on his back, pulling him backwards onto the green grass. Stephen smiled. Everything would be fine. Those two men couldn't do anything to his family. He would protect her.

* * *

**Back To Present Day**

"Don't you love flying coach," Chuck asked Sarah and Casey, as they were crammed into a three seat section on the right side of a 747. "I mean, first class is nice, but those people make me want to take a shower."

Casey, ever predictable, grunted. Sarah was more vocal. "No reason to be nervous, Chuck." She could always tell when he was making small talk, cause he was flustered. "Just please don't get your hopes up about seeing your mother today. Hopefully, this Marlordore Trinsburg will be able to tell us about your mother."

"I still think one of us should have stayed behind and followed this Operation Cygnus angle Sarah's friend gave you guys," Casey added.

"One of us did," Chuck said brightly.

"What do you mean?"

"I texted Morgan about it."

"Oh great, the shrimp himself, what can he do to help us?"

"Chuck texted him the location of Orion's Batcave, and he going to try and look for a file drawer on Cygnus," Sarah added.

"Oh my god," Chuck said, his jaw dropping.

"What is it Chuck," Sarah asked, looking around the plane as she spoke. "Did you flash?" At the word flash, Casey's hand went to his hip, where Chuck was sure he was packing.

"No, its just you made a comic book reference. To Batman, you know?"

Sarah giggled. "You are rubbing off on me, Chuck."

Chuck put his head down as he turned slightly red. "Oh dear." At that, Casey put his headphones on. "What are you listening to, Casey? I take you for a heavy metal kind of guy. Though, looking at that audio cassette player you have there from 1980, I'm not sure it's heavy metal? Got some Beatles playing? You want someone to hold your hand?"

"Hardly. Audio cassette of Ronald Regan, 1987, West Berlin. Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!"

"Wow Casey, I've never seen you that passionate about… well… anything." Chuck was broadly grinning now, and Sarah was hiding her face as she tried not to burst out laughing. Casey ignored them both and went back to listening to his hero.

"Anyway Sarah, hopefully Morgan will find out something about Cygnus while we are off speaking to Marlordore. We should be landing in Pennsylvania soon."

"My only worry is he's not tall enough to see the top row of those filing cabinets," Sarah laughed once again.

"Don't worry," Chuck said, looking at Casey and smiling wider than ever. "Alex is helping him."

Casey's "What!" could be heard from outside the plane.

* * *

Hugo Longhi stood to the side of Mr. Caplan's office, waiting for Athena to enter. Hugo was trembling, nervous, not sure if he could perform the job given to him, but terrified to think of what would happen to him if he didn't. He wanted to be back at his computer outside in the hallway, punching buttons.

The door opened, and Athena walked in. All but ignoring Hugo, she had her eyes fixed on the big man, the big boss, Mr. Caplan, who was seated at his desk. She walked as close as she dared, than stopped. Hugo could tell she was desperately trying to keep her hands at her side, but they seemed to want to wring together. She was nervous, that was for sure.

"Mr. Caplan, it's good to see you sir."

The man behind the desk said nothing, just stared at her, straight in the eyes.

"I'm sure you've heard by now what happened, sir, and I must humbly apologize, sir. I didn't mean to shoot Marlordore Trinsburg, I was fully committed to following your directions to the t, but… well, she surprised me, than the gun went off, and…" Athena trailed off, unable to think of a reasonable excuse.

Hugo almost laughed, in spite of his nervousness. She was digging herself a deeper grave. Still, Mr. Caplan remained silent, and Athena, afraid of the deathly silence, continued to speak.

"It wasn't really my fault, now that I think about it sir, I think it was her finger around the trigger when the gun went off and killed her, stopping us from being able to question her. Not that I let her finger get by mine, you see but…" Athena stopped when Mr. Caplan bowed his head.

Hugo froze. That was the sign. His brain froze. He had to do this. He had too! He took a deep breath, than pulled out the gun that was in his pocket. Athena turned around in time to see Hugo pointing the gun at her face. She dropped to her knees, not facing Hugo, but Mr. Caplan.

"Please sir please, take pity on me, please. I didn't mean for…" she never got to finish her sentence, for Hugo pulled the trigger, and the bullet entered her head. She fell over, dead. Hugo staggered backwards. He had never hurt anyone before. Why had Mr. Caplan made him do this?

Mr. Caplan's voice echoed from his desk. "Good job Hugo. I am proud of you. The Fornax Group is proud of you."

A tear rolled down Hugo's cheek. Whether it was from killing someone, or from Mr. Caplan calling him Hugo instead of Mr. Longhi for the first time ever, he wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure which he wanted it to be…

* * *

**Thanks for reading, if you guys have any suggestions or comments, or just want to review, please do! I appreciate each and every one. :)**


	5. Discoveries

**Discoveries**

"I knew there was a reason we brought you along, Casey," Chuck joked from the backseat as Casey drove the rental. "If Sarah and I had been here by ourselves, and had to pay for this rental, well, it would have cost us a good bit of our ole nest egg."

"Can it Bartowski," Casey growled. "You're already making me feel like a chauffeur, with both of you sitting in the backseat..."

Chuck looked over at Sarah and smiled, taking her hand in his. She had her hair done up in a messy ponytail/bun hybrid, he wasn't sure what it was officially called or anything, but he loved it. "If your feeling lonely, Casey, I'm sure we could call Carina. She could provide some... company."

Sarah's mouth opened as she smiled, and Casey's eyes narrowed. "We are on a mission here, people, and let's not forget it. Marlordore Trinsburg. Give us a rundown, Walker."

"Gladly. Seventy-eight year old retired CIA agent. Long, award filled history of awards and medals. Lives outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, about two or three miles from our current location, according to my GPS. Chuck's father had her name written down in Mary Bartowski's file as a person he needed to visit; he was pretty sure the CIA had held his wife in Marlordore's house."

"Any reasons listed as to why my father thought that?"

"No, which was odd, considering the rest of the files we've come across so far, every detail is painstakingly listed, no matter how seemingly unimportant. That appears to tell me he was rushed, towards the end."

"So we could just be going on a wild goose egg hunt here," Casey grumbled. "Great."

"It the only lead we have, Casey, except for Operation Cygnus, which Morgan is looking up for us," Chuck cut in. "He still hasn't called back, which isn't surprising, given the huge amount of data stored in the Batcave by my father."

"This is it, Casey," Sarah reminded him as he approached a gravel driveway. He turned onto it and pulled up. They continued talking as they got out and walked up to the front door. "I think that the only way we are going to learn anything from this is if Miss. Trinsburg already wants to give us any information. We aren't going to be able to convince her to turn on her CIA, the CIA she's dedicated her life too." Casey rapped on the door with his knuckles once, twice, three times.

"She had to have known Director Graham, when he was alive," Chuck quickly threw in for Casey's benefit. Sarah wanted that secret kept between the two of them. "Maybe we could bring up his name, you know, score some points."

Casey rapped again on the door. "Hmm, depends on if she liked him or not. He was a very polarizing Director. Lots of people thought he was too lenient."

"I always thought he was pretty awesome. Maybe she's not home," Chuck asked as Casey knocked once again, the raps getting progressively louder.

"Her car is in the driveway. Spies hate taxies, she wouldn't have called one." Casey tried peeking through the front window.

"Why do spies hate taxies," Chuck asked curiously.

"Cause that's one thing Hollywood has gotten right. Very easy for an enemy organization to put an assassin undercover as a cab driver. Jump in, and bang, you're gone." Sarah bunched her top lip up towards her nose as she spoke. "Believe me, I had a bad experience."

Casey put his hand on the door knob and turned. It opened, and Casey slowly pushed the door open, staring inside down a hallway. He turned and gave Sarah a grim look, than yelled in, "Mrs. Trinsburg, Colonel John Casey here, NSA, I'd like to speak to you, please." They all waited, but nobody answered. Chuck watched as Casey and Sarah got their weapons out, and all three moved into the house.

The hallway was clean, but as soon as they got into the living room, Casey cursed as he saw the couch. "Bullet holes, there was a fight here."

Sarah had walked towards the kitchen as Casey was talking, and as soon as she turned the corner, Chuck saw her lean against the wall, and heard an audible "Damn." He started walking towards her. "Guys, come here," she said in a weary voice. Casey behind him, Chuck walked up to stand beside his girlfriend.

There, laying on the tiled floor, was the body of an old woman. Marlordore Trinsburg. Dead. Blood lay in a pool on her chest. Beside her body, on the white tiled floor, was a message, a message written in blood, the fingers on her right outstretched hand covered in blood, the only ink she had available. Her last moments were spent crafting this message to whomever might discover her. Than, as Chuck read it, he realized no, it wasn't. This message was for someone in particular...

**S. Bartowski**

**Mary - CIA**

**Cygnus**

Below those three lines of information was a symbol she had drawn, a circle with an X drawn in the middle, and a triangle scribbled in the upper quadrant of the X. When Chuck's eyes fell upon that symbol, his mind lost all other focus, his body froze, and he flashed.

_**-a large tower in the middle of a forest-**_

_**-what looked like a company photo where everyone was wearing suits-**_

_**-a folder with the name Fornax Group on it-**_

_**-dead bodies, strewn everywhere-**_

_**-back to the picture of the fallen tree-**_

Chuck came out of the flash. Sarah was saying, "... we know a lot more now. Or better put, we've confirmed a lot more. It seems for certain, according to this death note, that Mary is behind held by the CIA and Operation Cygnus is somehow connected to all of this. Mrs. Trinsburg wanted your father to find this Chuck. We're starting to find a path, here Chuck, now we just have to keep following it, and we can do this, we can find your mother!"

"Now, if we only knew what that symbol meant," Casey added, leaning over to stare at it.

"I think I can help with that," Chuck spoke up.

Sarah frowned. "How could you..." than it seemed to dawn on her, and she nodded her head. "You flashed on it."

"Yep. It seems to be the symbol for The Fornax Group."

"The Fornax Group? I've never heard of them. How about you, Casey?"

"Nope. Sounds like a charity. I bet they're treehuggers."

"I just wonder whose side their on. Chuck, did the flash tell you anything as to what their affiliation is?"

"No, but Sarah..." Chuck trailed off, troubled look on his face.

"What is it, Chuck," she asked, rubbing his arm.

"While I was flashing there, Sarah," he said, slowly raising his head to look her in the eye, "When my mind first came across the words Fornax Group, I got this feeling in my stomach... I don't know how to describe it. But Sarah, I think whoever this group is, we've never faced anyone like them before. I'm scared."

* * *

"How is that possible, Eureka? How did they find out about Marlordore Trinsburg?" Hugo Longhi was not polite in asking that question over the phone. He was pissed. He had killed someone.

"I don't know. Maybe she sent them a message before Athena went to her house and killed her?"

"Marlordore Trinsburg was a true American CIA agent. She would never give up her country, never tell anyone freely about what she was doing with Mary Bartowski. I'm sure of that, Eureka." Hugo had just lied, he thought. He wasn't sure of that at all. Maybe this had something to do with that Operation, the one Mr. Caplan and Hydra brought up all the time. The secret one, the one that Hugo had not been allowed to hear the details of. If Marlordore was involved...

"Well, all I know is Walker, Casey and Bartowski's bastard are all headed straight for her house. Just doing my job, Hugo. I'd prefer to report to Mr. Caplan, you know..."

"You report to me. The boss is busy. Did you say Casey?"

"Yes I did. Colonel..."

Hugo interrupted him. "Colonel John Casey, yes, I am aware of the man. Thank you, Eureka, that will be all. Keep tailing them. Report their every move."

"What are you going to do? We can't let them find her body, that will raise even more questions."

"Obviously. Athena couldn't even clean up after herself... it appears I'm going to have to send a team out to Marlordore house to clean up."

"Tell them to hurry. We don't want Bartowski and company getting there first. We've got the upper hand, and we need to keep it."

* * *

Inara Mars did not like the new cover name she had used to get into this prison. It sounded like a candy bar. Inara Mars. She shuddered. She also did not like that she had to cut her long black hair, and it was now a short, sandy brown. The price of being on the run.

She kept her eyes in front of her, on the short prison security guard who was leading her to the private room. He sure had been handsy while he was patting her down, searching her for weapons. Little pervert. Likely had an inferiority complex or something. Had she not been undercover, she would have kicked the little man's ass all the way to Burbank.

Inara Mars still didn't know what exactly she was doing here, or what she hoped to gain from this visit. It was a huge risk on her part, coming back into a prison, back where she was wanted. If one of these CIA guards recognized her, she was screwed. But than, she thought to herself, she wouldn't have come at all if there hadn't been a chance for any kind of reward. A big one. And she was curious. What was he doing, reaching out to her? Soon, she would find out.

The perverted security guard opened a door on his right. "Here you are. You have eight minutes, no longer, no less." He eyed her up and down as she walked by him, and she had to count to three real quick to keep her temper down.

Inara Mars walked in and sat down across the table from the black hair man who was currently sitting down in a chair on the other side. Dressed in all white, he wore no handcuffs, even though he was a prisoner. No, he wore something much worse. A straitjacket confined the man so he could not move. As soon as Inara Mars sat down, he spoke.

"I knew you would come. Nice to meet you, Dr. Jill Roberts."

Jill smiled. "I can't say it's nice to meet you, Mr. Daniel Shaw."

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews, I hope this has been as much fun to read as its been to write. Enjoy, and please review of you have anything to say or suggest. Thanks again.**


	6. Pain And Pleasure

**Pain And Pleasure

* * *

**

**(Author's Note: This chapter is a little bit edgier than the others.)**

* * *

As Sarah was snapping a picture of the message that Marlordore Trinsburg had written in her own blood, Chuck saw Casey move out of the corner of his eye. "What's up," he asked his comrade.

"Someone just pulled in the driveway," he said seriously and quietly.

Sarah immediately looked up at him. "They've come back to clean up."

"Do you think the they you are talking about is the Fornax Group, the group I flashed on?"

"It very well could be," Sarah said. Sarah reached into her pants to pull out her gun, and groaned as she did so.

"What's wrong," Chuck asked nervously. Even with the Intersects powers, he didn't like being near a gunfight.

"Forgot to reload. Bullets are in the rental."

"WALKER," Casey yelled, exasperated. "You've been out of commission what, a week, and you already forget how to be a spy?"

"It's one mistake, Casey, back off," Chuck said angrily.

"Listen here munc..."

"Guys, now is not the time. They're coming." And she was right, Chuck heard people talking as they walked to the front door.

"I'll take out as many as I can close quarters," Casey said, pulling out pistol.

"Chuck and I will pick off as many as we can in combat. We've got your back."

Chuck, Sarah and Casey ran up to the hallway that led to the front door, Casey standing about five feet away from the door, up against the wall that the door was on, ready to pick off anyone who went through the door. Chuck hid behind the couch, while Sarah went into a closet in the hallway, keeping the door cracked. The front door opened, and two people walked into first. Dressed in all black, Chuck thought they looked like ninjas. All was silent until the one on the left looked around, and Casey fired. One shot to the chest, and the first ninja was down. Bang, a second shot hit the second ninja, and he had an extra hole in his head. Than, all hell broke loose.

A swarm of black clothed people came running in, and Chuck saw Casey's gun get kicked out of his hand. Time for some fun, Chuck thought to himself as he flashed the now all too familiar martial arts flash, and stood up, ready for some action.

Two of the enemies saw Chuck stand up from behind the couch, and started towards him, going down the hallway. Before they knew what had happened to them, the wooden closet door burst open, and out came Sarah. The door knocked the one into the other, and Sarah, wielding an iron board, gob smacked the one into kingdom come. She then ran at the other one, pushing him against the wall with the iron board between the two of them, and started choking the man with it, pushing it against his neck.

Casey, meanwhile, had three guys on him. The first two came at him at once, and he put his shoulder down and bull rushed the man on the right into the wall, causing the plaster to give, and the man to get momentarily stuck. The other man nailed Casey in the face with a downwards punch that knocked Casey off his feet. The guy stupidly kneeled down to try and grab Casey's neck, but to no avail. Casey's eyes popped open and he grabbed the guys neck as he was kneeling to choke Casey, and while laying down, threw the want to be ninja over his own head and into the wall behind him. With a deafening crunch, the man hit the floor then lay there, not getting back up anytime soon. The third and last man who had come through the door and was eyeing up Casey, looked at Casey with fear in his eyes, then took back off through the front door, getting out of there was fast as he could.

While Casey and Sarah were in their own battles, Chuck heard the back door open and swung into action. Two men entered the kitchen, and the one had the nerve to step on Marlordore Trinsburg's corpse. Chuck's heart turned to steel in that moment. He leapt at that man, getting lots of air and landing a kick right to the man's breadbox. Unfortunately for Chuck, he hadn't noticed the other man carrying a baseball bat, and that guy nailed Chuck in the ribs with it as he landed from his flying kick. CRUNCH. Chuck groaned and bent over. His heart so badly told him to fall to the floor, to cry at the injury he had just received, but his Intersect controlled brain said no. He looked over at the man who had just hit him with the bat, and calmly stood up, walking to him. The man went to swing the bat at Chuck again, and Chuck caught the bat in midswing with his bare hands, taking the bat away from the ninja dude as if he was taking candy from a baby. Throwing the bat aside, he knocked away all the man's futile attempts to hit him, grabbed the man by the neck and by the leg, picked him up and threw him through the window. And after that, it was silent.

Chuck turned around, and saw Sarah and Casey standing there, watching him with open mouths. "Chuck me," Casey said.

"I'll take that as approval?" Chuck said, smiling as the Chuck fu wore off. He winced in pain as he felt the hurt come down on his bat battered ribs all at once, and he bent over. Sarah was immediately at his side, holding him up, using her body as a crutch.

"We need to leave. I saw one of them escape, and they will most likely bring back more help. This time trained ones, with guns," Sarah grimly stated.

"Those guys weren't trained," Chuck asked, in shock.

"Nope. Mostly likely a cleaning crew," Casey answered.

"We need to find a place to stay the night, a hotel or something. Than tomorrow we can call Morgan and see if he's found anything," Sarah said.

"Give me one minute," Chuck said. He gingerly knelt down, and pulled back one of the knocked out ninja's sleeves. There sat a watch, with the same mark on it that Marlordore Trinsburg had drawn on the floor. The mark of the Fornax Group. Chuck silently showed Sarah and Casey, than they all filed out the door.

* * *

"This sure is a nice hotel," Chuck said as the gang walked away from the lobby desk. "Good looking bar and everything."

"Speaking of a bar, I'm going to grab something to drink before I turn in. See you guys in the morning." Casey headed off to the mostly empty bar.

"Ready to turn in," Chuck asked Sarah, looking at her with a grin on his face, but pain in his eyes. His ribs still hurt.

"Go get a drink first, it will do your ribs some good, I think."

Chuck smiled. "I think you would do my ribs some good. Let's go upstairs."

Sarah giggled. "Spend some time with Casey, I think you could use it."

"I want Sarah time, not Casey time," Chuck pouted, sticking his lower lip out on purpose.

Sarah leaned forward and grabbed his lower lip with hers. Letting go, she said, "Give me time to get ready, than you can have all the Sarah time you can get, and than some, if I have any say."

Chuck nodded his head eagerly. "You can have all the say you want." They kissed one more time, than she turned to go up the steps. Chuck watched her leave, than turned, going to sit down beside Casey at the bar. It looked like Casey had ordered himself a cold beer. The bartender came up to Chuck as he sat down.

"What can I get you?"

"Hmm... got any chocolate milk?"

"Yep, what do you want mixed with it?"

"Nothing, I like my chocolate milk pure, you know?"

Apparently the bartender didn't know, as he walked away shaking his head. Casey spoke up. "I wish that would surprise me, but after three years, Bartowski, nothing about you does anymore."

The two spies sat there, sipping their respective drinks for a good long while, before Casey spoke up. "You know Chuck, years back, when my name was still Alex, when I was in the military, I knew this man. His name was Paul. Two months before I had met him, his convoy was attacked, and his twin brother, Pete, was missing after the attack. No body, or any sign of him."

"Was he kidnapped," Chuck asked.

"Paul didn't know. All he knew was his brother was missing, and not a damn thing was going to stop him until he found his brother. It filled him, consumed him, became his singular sole purpose for living. It didn't matter whose life he put in danger, it didn't matter if he left one of his squad mates high and dry and for dead, he would do whatever it took to find his brother. One by one, he lost his friends that he had made. He didn't care. That only made him more focused on his task."

Casey paused to take a sip of his beer. Chuck cut in, "Were Paul and Pete reunited?"

Casey cracked his knuckles, than continued. "Paul got in his head that somehow, these bunch of teens at this village we were passing though knew where his brother was. He started torturing them. The elders of this village didn't like this much, and a mob was formed. Paul was killed." Casey took another sip. "I wasn't there to help him out of it, and I don't feel one ounce of guilt about that."

"Quite a story," Chuck muttered.

"The real kicker is," Casey continued, "two days later, we come across this old house, and who do we find but Paul's brother, Pete. He had been taken hostage, but escaped, and this old couple was nursing him back to health. But the thing is, had Paul lived to see him brother, I don't think that would have changed him. I don't think he would have magically been cured, Bartowski. Keep that in mind. I know how much you want, no need to find your mother. But there are other things in this life too. Don't lose sight of that, understand?"

"Yes sir," Chuck said, not at all in a mocking way. Casey nodded and emptied his beer mug.

"Get upstairs to that girl of yours. Don't keep a woman waiting, Bartowski."

* * *

Chuck walked into the hotel room, glad that the hotel had an elevator instead of stairs. That would have killed his ribs. "Sarah, I'm home," he said in a singsong voice. The room seemed to be empty, till he heard the bathroom door off to the right open. Chuck turned and looked, and saw an angel.

Dressed in a long black dress shirt, and nothing else, hair wet from a hot shower, Sarah walked up to Chuck. "It's Sarah time," she whispered, sexy smile on her face. He was unable to take his eyes off her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and their lips connected. Sarah moaned as his hands roamed over her back, down to her barely covered ass. Chuck carefully turned and slowly lowered her on the bed, gently positioning himself over her, never breaking their lip lock.

Their tongues dancing, he ran his hands up her bare thighs, his heart skipping beats as he reached her hips. She broke the kiss only long enough to pull his shirt over his head. She also had somehow managed to unbutton his pants without his knowledge, and in a flash, they were gone, pulled down by her magical feet.

"You're working fast tonight," Chuck whispered into his ear as he started to kiss her neck.

"I need you, Chuck, oh God, I need you so bad."

At that he stopped kissing her neck and pulled his head up, looking her in the eye. "How the hell did a nerd like me ever get a woman like you, Sarah?

Sarah smiled at him. "You're my nerd, Chuck. And right now I need you to keep going, or I'll get on top..."

Chuck laughed. "You act like you on top is a bad thing."

Sarah stuck out her tongue at him, which he grabbed with his lips. He kissed her as thoroughly as he could, putting all his love and emotion into her, and he could feel her doing the same thing. Both of their bodies were so hot, so focused, so together. "God, I love you, Sarah Walker." He moved down to kiss her neck, causing her to moan as he slowly unbuttoned her long night dress shirt. "I love you so much..."

"I.. love you... too," she managed to get out, out of breath as Chuck made love to her neck with his tongue. Wrapping her legs around his back, she thrust herself up, ready to truly be one with the man she loved. Being a spy was a dangerous business, every time could be their last, so every time, they made it memorable. Chuck, worries forgotten, pain ignored, was more than happy to oblige, to please his love until they passed out from exhaustion as the Do Not Disturb sign hung on the knob on the door outside the room. The Fornax Group, Operation Cygnus, it all could wait. They had each other, which was all they wanted, all they needed. Each other.

* * *

**Thanks again for reading, any comments or suggestions, please review! :)**


	7. Find Them

**Find Them**

* * *

**(Note: This one's a little bit shorter than what I normally do, but it reached natural ending points for the chapter, as you'll see… :)**

* * *

"What do you mean they flew to Pennsylvania," General Beckman yelled into the phone. "Why was I not briefed sooner on this situation?"

The answer she got on the other end of the line must not have pleased her, for she humphred loudly. "Find out where they are, and what they are doing. This is of the utmost importance." She than slammed the phone down hard, causing her desk to shake.

She should have known to keep a closer eye on them after Casey had questioned her about Mary Bartowski. But no, she trusted Casey, to do right by his country. She shook her head. Maybe he was. She had no idea what had happened during Operation Cygnus, that was above her pay grade, but she knew that she had to keep it covered. That had been explained to her in great detail. The future of the United States Government depended on it. That had to outweigh uncovering the truth. It must stay secret, and she would do everything in her power to make sure it did.

* * *

Hugo Longhi sat back in his chair, holding his head in his hands. He had never felt so relieved to be out of Mr. Caplan's office in his life. Telling him about how the cleaning crew was ambushed was not pleasant. They had sent in two vans of armed men after that, but by than, Charles Bartowski and company were gone. Damn, he thought, slamming the table in frustration. If only they could get hold of Stephen Bartowski's son, whose mind was the Intersect… it would put them that much closer to Mary Bartowski! Hugo smiled as he thought of Charles Bartowski. Mr. Caplan had just launched a plan, against Charles. And oh, was it a beauty. The man would not know what hit him.

Hugo looked up when he heard someone run into the room. It was Farraday, a short little man. He was a lab tech, and he always smelled like rotten eggs. Hugo would have bet money the man showered once a week, if that. "I've cracked the security system on Marlordore Trinsburg's laptop, Hugo." Hugo smiled. The man may smell, but he was good at his job.

"Excellent. Mary Bartowski stayed with Trinsburg for a good period of time. There has to be something useful in that computer, something that can point us to where she is." Mr. Caplan would be pleased. Very pleased. Soon, they would have Mary Bartowski, the key. Only she had the knowledge, and soon, it would be theirs. The Fornax Group would be victorious above all, and finally defeat their old enemy.

* * *

"You look tired, Chuck," Casey commented as he took a sip of coffee. Chuck and Casey were sitting in the dining hall of the hotel, eating a complimentary breakfast. Sarah was up refilling on orange juice.

"I'm afraid I didn't get much sleep last night," Chuck said, smiling. "Sarah didn't either. In fact…" Suddenly, Casey cut Chuck off.

"I don't need the details, Bartowski."

Chuck gave Casey an odd, appraising look, than reached across the table and patted his hand. "Don't worry, I can help you find a lady friend, if you want?"

Casey growled. "Touch me again, and Sarah will be calling you her new lady friend. Understand?"

Chuck smiled, but removed his hand just as Sarah got back. She started to sit down, tussling Chuck's hair as she did so. Chuck's phone rang, and he tried to pull it out of his pocket, but it was stuck. He tugged on it and almost fell out of his chair.

"Good lord Bartowski," Casey muttered.

"You all right Chuck," Sarah asked.

"Yep," Chuck said brightly. "And I got my phone. All's good, all's good." Chuck looked down and saw Morgan's face staring back at him. "It's Morgan, I'll put it on speaker." Chuck hit the button, than said, "Hey buddy, find anything?"

"Oh yeah we did," Morgan said, sounding very excited.

"We," Sarah asked, concerned look on her face.

"Hi dad," a female voice came through the phone. Alex's voice.

Casey sat up straight. "Alex! What are you doing there!"

"I'm helping you. I didn't have anything planned, and when Morgan called and asked for help…" "GRIMES…" Casey yelled.

"She been a real big help, John, a real big help."

Chuck and Sarah were having a hard time holding in their amusement, but when Alex started talking again, they lost it. "Yeah, Morgan can't reach the top drawers without a chair, so I have a real 'big' help…" she giggled.

Casey looked like he was about to start in again, so before he could, Chuck cut him off. "Morgan, what did you find, buddy?"

"We found a drawer with the label 'Operation Cygnus' on it. That was one of your keywords, right?"

"Yes Morgan, it was, what is in it, what does it say? What did my dad find out about it?"

"Not much," Alex said. Chuck could hear rustling of papers as she flipped through them. "Basically, it's something the CIA has been trying to cover up for a long time, and he couldn't figure out why. But he was sure it took place in Ethiopia."

"Did he ever visit Africa, to try and figure out what happened," Sarah asked.

"No. As far as we can tell, he never connected Operation Cygnus to your mother, Chuck," Morgan said.

"Than it looks like we have our next destination," Casey said, getting up and pushing in his chair.

"Wait just a minute," Chuck said, standing up, looking slightly mad. "You think my mother is in Africa? My mother is behind held by the CIA, why would they take her to Africa, essentially the scene of the crime?"

"They wouldn't."

"Then why are we going there? If my mother's not there, than it's a waste of time. And we don't have all the time in the world, Casey."

Here, Sarah cut in. "Chuck, this is the only lead we have. If we can find out more about this Operation Cygnus, which my friend and Marlordore Trinsburg both pointed us towards, than maybe we can find out where your mother is and how to free her. But we must follow the leads we have, honey, and this is all we got." She reached up and took his hand, and he sat back down.

"Okay," he said. "When do we leave?"

* * *

Morgan smiled at Alex. "Wow, we've been up all night."

Alex yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "Yeah, I'm pretty tired.

They were back at Chuck and Morgan's place. Morgan had invited her back for breakfast, and he was in the kitchen, desperately trying to make the scrambled eggs and bacon of his life. "Well," Morgan said nervously, "if you're too tired to drive home, you can always crash here…"

Alex smiled. "How sweet of you."

Morgan blushed. "Well, you know, comes with the beard."

She got up off the couch and walked over to stand beside him. "Seems like your quite a package deal."

Morgan gulped, than laughed nervously, looking down at his eggs. "Uhoh, gotta move the eggs around, you know, so they don't, uh… get to hot…"

"Morgan," Alex said sweetly.

"Yes," he said, looking up anxiously.

"I really app…" she stopped talking as she heard a swoosh, than looked down to see a dart sticking out of her chest. "Morgan," she asked, looking at him with a fear filled face. Her legs gave out, and she fell towards the ground.

Morgan fell to his knees and caught her. "I've got you, Alex, I've got you." He never saw the next dart hit him the back.

* * *

Morgan's eyes flipped open, and he realized he couldn't move. He was tied up, in a dimly lit room, in a wooden chair. Looking to his right, he saw Alex, tied up just like him, gag over both their mouths. She was still out, and he tried to yell her name, but couldn't. A small noise coming from in front of him made him turn, and he almost passed out again from shock.

"Ellie," he shouted, though it only came out as a jumbled mumble. Ellie shook her head, tied up same as him. Captain Awesome was tied as well, but he had managed to tip over his chair, so he was on the ground, still attached to the chair, struggling to break free of his bonds. Ellie's eyes held the fear Morgan felt. Where were they, and who the hell had them?

* * *

**Thanks again for reading, and please review! I enjoy reading all your comments/suggestions. :)**


	8. Enter Africa

**Enter Africa**

* * *

**Author's Note: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, some research was involved, and that was fun, hope you like it. :)**

* * *

"Well, according to the papers that Morgan faxed us before we left the States, we need to get to Werder, Ethiopia," Chuck said to Sarah and Casey as they walked down the crowded streets of Addis Ababa, the capitol city of Ethiopia. They were in the heart of the city, and it was such an experience. The road they were walking along was eight lanes across. People breezed by on bicycles, while beggars held out their hands, pleading for… well, Chuck didn't know what they wanted, but he would have guessed money. "Whatever happened all those years ago is supposed to be north of Werder. According to this map I bought at the airport, it's… really far away… why didn't we fly in closer?"

They all stopped as one of Addis Ababa's infamous blue taxi's recklessly drove past them, hitting the curve, than almost swerving into the other lane, before speeding off. "Only flight available was to Bole International Airport," Sarah said, grimacing. She wiped the sweat off her brow and Chuck's heart skipped a beat. Needless to say, it was hot here, and Sarah sure had packed accordingly. Wearing a pair of black shorts that were, well, really short, and a flimsy white tank top that stuck to her sweat ridden chest, she was managing to turn heads everywhere. Chuck had to take a deep breath. It amazed him that she had such an effect on him. He had seen her naked, many times, yet seeing her with clothes, sexy, pretty clothes still made him flustered. "Ethiopia isn't exactly known for their excellent transportation systems."

Chuck looked up as they walked by a tall clock tower. It looked like there was a lion on top. A quick look at his tour guide told him it was the Arat Kilo Monument. "What language do they speak here? Ethiopian?"

Casey spoke up, walking slightly behind Chuck and Sarah, and strangely not sweating as much as them. "There are over 80 different languages spoken in this country."

"It's not quite as bad as Casey made it sound," Sarah said, waving thanks to a car that had stopped so they could pass the busy road. "A lot of the words are the same from one ethnic group to the other. But, yes, there are that many languages, and it is essentially impossible for one to learn all of them."

"Holy chocolate starfish," Chuck exclaimed. "How are we ever going to get answers to our questions? How are we supposed to find my mother, find out about Operation Cygnus, The Fornax Group, heck, find out anything if we can't communicate with the people?"

"You're forgetting something, Chuck," said Sarah, taking his sweaty hand in hers.

"What's that?"

"You're the Intersect, nimrod." Casey grunted as a beggar, an old woman dressed in rags and filth covering her face grabbed at his pants. His eyes softened, if only for a second, and he reached into his pocket. He pulled out some of the local currency he had traded in for at the airport and gave it to her. Her eyes grew wide, and she threw herself around Casey's legs, kissing them while jabbering on emphatically. Casey managed to pry her off him, than continued, not looking at Chuck or Sarah as he walked. "As I was saying, you have the Intersect. Hopefully you can flash, and speak the language."

"However, to get to Werder, we are going to need a guide." Sarah looked up and down the street as if trying to decide something. "So that is what we're doing."

"Hmm, Sarah, the guide book here says we could get a guide at the airport, and that's…" Chuck looked behind him and sighed. "A long way back. At least we have our sweat tracks to follow."

"I believe Age… ahem, Walker has experience here," Casey said.

"Sarah," Chuck asked, raising their hands slightly.

"I've been here before," she said. "Shortly after I passed my red test. This was one of my first missions."

"Really," Chuck asked, interested as out of the corner of his eye he saw a bird swoop down and land on the sidewalk beside him. "What was the mission?"

"Making sure the leader of an ethnic group that was here to visit another survived said trip."

"Did it work? Did you manage to keep him alive?"

"Yes."

"That's it," Casey asked, seemingly curious. "You aren't going to tell him the story behind it?"

"It's hot out and that's a long story, Casey."

"Wait a second." Chuck turned to look back at the heavily muscled man. "How do you know about it?"

"What agent in the CIA or NSA doesn't? That was when I first heard of Walker here. She did excellent work."

One of Chuck's trademark grins flashed up on his face, and he put his arm around his girlfriend. "Wow, you just got a compliment, from old Johnny boy here. You are amazing."

Sarah grinned as Casey scowled. "Amazing? I thought your family used the word 'awesome'."

Chuck laughed as Casey rolled his eyes. Sarah suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a temporary traffic jam on the busy sidewalk. "Well that's one universal symbol," Chuck muttered as someone who had run into the back of them flipped them off.

"This is it." Sarah walked up to the door of one of the more rundown buildings. Not even bothering to knock, she walked right in. Chuck and Casey hastily followed.

"So is it a local custom not to knock in Ethiopia," Chuck asked earnestly. "If I'm going to be here for any length of time, I'd like to learn the culture as best I can."

"This is a business," Casey growled. "Do you knock before you go in Wal-Mart?"

Chuck looked around. He supposed the room they were in could be called a reception room. The floor looked like it was hard packed dirt, but there were a few chairs spread around the perimeter of the room. "What kind of business is this?"

"The man who works here is a private detective," Sarah said. "He helped me years ago. I believe he'll help me again, if he still lives."

"If he still lives," Chuck asked. "Was he old?"

"No, but this place looked a lot better last time." Sarah raised her voice to a yell. "Rafiki, are you here?"

Team Chuck waited in patience until they heard a noise coming from the other end of the hallway. A man stumbled into sight, leaning up against the wall, a bottle of some type of alcohol in his hand. Chuck could smell him, even though he wasn't that close. The man yelled something at them in a language Chuck didn't understand, and he did not flash. Great, he thought to himself. Maybe it's cause the man wasn't speaking a language. Maybe he's so drunk he's slurring.

"No Amharic," Sarah said loudly. "English, Rafiki."

Rafiki walked a bit closer, still occasionally leaning against the wall for support. "Ah, English," he said in a deep voice. The man was slightly more than middle aged, Chuck would place him in his late fifties. He had a buzz cut, and a short beard, both of which were gray. Rafiki was about the size of Casey, though they dressed nothing alike. Rafiki was without a shirt, and his trousers were brown and worn. No shoes graced his feet. "I do not practice my English much. Last time I spoke it in any great… uh… length, was when you visited years ago, CIA Agent Walker."

"You remember me," Sarah said, pleased.

Rafiki eyed her up and down, not bothering to hide his wandering eye. "How could I forget?"

Chuck walked up beside Sarah and took her hand possessively, glaring at the man as he did so. Sarah looked over at him, and sweetly smiled at him. She than turned her gaze back to the drunk. "Good, I'm glad you remember. I need your help once again."

Rafiki laughed, sauntering over to a chair, and collapsed on it. Chuck winced, he was sure the chair would collapse under the African man's weight, but it held up, if only barely. He took a swig of his alcohol, than spoke. "Going to kill some more people, Miss CIA? Going to use all your… fancy moves?"

"Do you still have your jeep?" Sarah was direct, to the point. No bullcrap here.

The man laughed again. "Yes, yes, I do. Hidden, outside the city. I drive it every now and again, get some fresh air But I take it my jeep is not what brought you and your buddies to Addis Ababa." That was not a question.

"We need you to take us somewhere, please." Chuck looked over at Casey, who was standing silently with his hands folded in front of him. Chuck realized again how Casey and Sarah knew each others skill sets. Casey was letting Sarah take the lead here, and Chuck had no doubt Sarah would do the same for Casey.

"Why do I get the feeling I am not going to like this," the old man said, grinning. "Where is it you wish to go?"

Chuck spoke up, tired of remaining silent. "Werder. It's east of…"

Rafiki cut him off. "I've lived here my whole life, boy, I know where Werder is." The two men's eyes connected, and Chuck felt a charge. He did not trust this Rafiki. The Ethiopian turned his eyes back to Sarah. "Why do you wish to go way out there, in the dangerous lands? That city is isolated."

"Our business is our own," Sarah said firmly, taking an aggressive step towards him as she said it.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity until the man started laughing, hysterically. "Okay, Miss USA, I will help you. But I need money, lots of money."

"Gonna fix the place up?" Chuck asked.

"No, I need it for my beer and prostitutes." Rafiki laughed at the look on Chuck's face. "I will go clean up. Relax, and wait for me." He stumbled back the hallway into his quarters.

As soon as he was out of sight, Chuck immediately turned to Sarah, and went to whisper in her ear. "Sarah, I don't trust him, at all. Something about him…" he trailed off, waving his hands to make his point.

Sarah smiled at him, hugging him to reassure him. "Don't worry Chuck, I've worked with him before. He may seem like an old drunk, but he's reliable. He will get us to Werder. I trust him."

"Than I do as well," Chuck said. Sarah smiled as they kissed quickly, ignoring Casey's groan in the background.

* * *

Casey sat up front with Rafiki as Chuck and Sarah were crammed in the back of the jeep. Chuck stared, openmouthed, as beautiful terrain and landscapes passed by as the hot sun torched them with it's heat. But the breeze from the topless jeep did help with that. Sarah leaned over and put her chin on his shoulder. "It is pretty, isn't it?"

"It's amaz… wait, awesome," Chuck caught himself. Sarah giggled and wrapped her arms around his chest. Up front, Casey and Rafiki were discussing weapons. It seemed that they were alike in other ways than size.

"I name my weapons," Rafiki said. "Hidi, she was my favorite. Best M-60 I ever had. Have you ever done this?"

Casey stared at Rafiki, intense look on his face. "My very first machine gun, her name was Vera. She is a beauty."

"You have her back in America?"

"Locked up and ready. She could take on any number of terrorists. And win."

Chuck shook his head as the two gun enthusiasts continued to bond. They had been following this dirt road for hours now, they had to be getting closer to Werder, if his time estimates based on the travel guide were anywhere near close. "Are we almost there," he yelled up front.

"Patience, little one," Rafiki yelled back. "What is it they say in those Hollywood movies? Don't get your panties in a sack?"

"I believe the correct word is bundle, not sack," Chuck said, than trailed off as he realized he was helping the man make fun of him.

They were driving parallel to a forest now, one that looked untouched by human hands. Rafiki had grown silent, and he was looking around nervously.

Sarah leaned up to grab his shoulder. He jumped slightly. "Is everything okay," she asked, concerned. "Are you lost?"

"No, no, I know exactly where we are," he said, though he sounded sad, depressed.

Chuck got a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he grabbed Sarah's shoulder. "Sarah…" he started, and he was cut off by the dust flying up as Rafiki slammed on the brakes. The jeep came to a stop beside the forest.

"They have my grandkids, I'm sorry," Rafiki yelled as he jumped out of the jeep. Casey pulled a pistol out of his pants and pointed it at Rafiki's back, but Sarah leapt up and grabbed Casey's arm.

"What the hell did you do that for," Casey asked angrily.

"I think we are going to need those bullets," Sarah said urgently, pointing to the forest.

Chuck looked over, slowly, dreading every minute. Rough clothed men on horses were pouring out of the forest. They had guns, and they were coming right at the jeep. There was no where to run.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!**


	9. Gone

**Gone**

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**Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Also, did anyone catch the Lion King and Firefly references in the last chapter, Enter Africa? Just curious, I thought they were rather obvious, maybe I was wrong… :)**

* * *

**20 Years Ago…**

Stephen Bartowski stretched his back as he got out of his car. It had been a long day at work. Zarnow was such an annoyance, Stephen was annoyed that he had been put on his team. The man was so arrogant, thinking he knew everything. If only he knew what Stephen had done…

Walking towards the front door, Stephen thought back to his conversation with Charles, Mary's old CIA partner, and a good friend. When Stephen had asked him if he knew anything about this Fornax Group that had come looking for Mary, he got a strange look on his face. He claimed he didn't know anything, but that he would use his contacts to try and find out who they were. Stephen thought he was hiding something though; it was just a feeling he had, there was no proof. Charles had always been a good friend; if he couldn't trust Charles Larkin, he couldn't trust anyone.

The front door was ajar. Stephen frowned; it wasn't like Mary to leave it open. The kids couldn't have done it, one of their neighbors was babysitting Ellie and Chuck so Stephen could have a date night with his lovely wife. He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in. "Mary," he yelled into the house. No one responded. He walked, than ran through the living room, kitchen, downstairs bathroom. Again, there was no one. He ran upstairs in a full on panic, yelling his wife's name, close to tears. Damn that Fornax Group!

Stephen burst into their bedroom, the last room in the house he had left to check. It was empty. The closet door was open, and all of Mary's clothes were gone. Who had taken them? Stephen put his head down and fell backwards on the bed, too in shock to move. He felt something crinkle under his back as he lay there, and he quickly arched his back up to slide a hand underneath. His hands grasped a piece of paper. He pulled it out and read it.

Stephen,

I'm writing this letter to tell you that I had to leave. I just couldn't take it anymore. You are so dedicated to your work with the CIA, and I had such bad memories, I just… well… I couldn't make you choose between your two loves, so I chose for you. Please don't follow me, or try and find me. I need to make my peace. Tell Ellie and Chuck I love them, with all my heart, and I will see them again. Keep your head up, Stephen, and everything will be aces.

Farewell,

Mary

Stephen lay there on the bed, reading this letter over and over. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as dust was illuminated as the sun shine through the partially drawn blinds. He didn't know why he was drawn to that, but he was. He sat up, his heart steel. Not for one second did he think that letter was true. His Mary would never leave him, not in that way, not ever. And she would rather die a million terrible deaths than leave her kids voluntarily. No, someone had taken her. And Stephen Bartowski was going to find her.

* * *

**Back In Present Day**

"So you managed to get a hold of the Azclizs," General Beckman asked her personal sectary.

"Yes General. They sent one of their own… uh… members to threaten everyone we thought Walker and Casey would go to in Africa."

"Especially Rafiki, right? I know Walker. She trust the old man, and she will go to him when she is in need. He did help out a lot last time."

"Yes. The Azclizs… uh… have his grandkids."

General Beckman hissed at that, but said nothing. She hated this part of her job, but orders were orders. Walker, Bartowski and Casey were to be brought in. Anyway, anyhow. She just wished she knew how they found out about Africa, and how is was connected to Operation Cygnus. She wasn't briefed on that particular piece of information until three hours ago.

"And do the Azclizs have a plan to capture our fugitives?"

"Yes. They are planning an ambush."

"I assume you know how they are planning it, does it sound good to you?"

General Beckman's assistant paused. "Well, they are on horseback, which does raise the eyebrows a bit, but they have rather large weapons."

General Beckman hissed again, and cursed. "They are going after my A-Team. They are going to need more than large guns to capture them…"

* * *

"Jump over, drive, drive away," Sarah frantically yelled at Casey as they sat in the jeep, watching a more than two dozen armed men on horseback rode towards them, waving their weapons. Chuck covered his ears and ducked his head, trying to flash, but knowing it wouldn't help against the insurmountable number of assilaiants. This was the real world, not Walker: Texas Ranger.

"We can't. That asshole took the keys," Casey yelled back.

"Than what do we do," Chuck said, grabbing Sarah's arm. "They're coming."

"We run," she screamed, and jumped out of the jeep, turning back to make sure Chuck and Casey were following. Chuck could hear bullets repelling off the metal of the jeep as he left it. Sarah grabbed Chuck's hand, and just that little touch made him feel safer. Casey right behind them, they took off towards the forest.

Casey and Sarah both had their weapons drawn, firing shots as accurately as they could towards the rapidly approaching men. Chuck's heart was pounding as the forest grew closer. Would they make it in time? Could they make it in time, before this gang of assailants took them? Chuck stumbled over air, and fell to his knees. "Damn it," he yelled as he pulled Sarah back with him accidentally. Bullets flew into the ground around them like mini rockets, Chuck could feel the fever burn of one as it carried past his cheek, missing him by an inch, a not so generous inch. Casey slid to his knees to avoid running into the back of Chuck. Sarah helped Chuck up, and they started running, Chuck limping as he had dinged up his knees on a stone, till Chuck realized Casey hadn't followed them. "Sarah, wait up, wait up, where's Casey?"

They both quickly turned around and saw Casey standing there, where Chuck had fallen. "Casey, come on, we have to go! It's dangerous…" A bullet hit the tree beside Casey as if to prove Chuck's point. The yells of the tribesmen were deafening, they were almost upon Casey.

"Go you morons, RUN!" Casey turned away from them, and ran at the horsemen who were running at them.

"NO," Chuck yelled, and started to go back until Sarah yanked on his arm.

"He's buying us time, Chuck, we have to go." She started pulling him along.

Tears filled Chuck's eyes. "Sarah, we can't leave him, we have to save him."

Sarah turned to look at Chuck, her eyes so emotional, so tender, but also so strong, not allowing herself to cry, not here, not now. "We can't Chuck. We can't. We can just make sure he didn't… didn't give himself up in vain. We have to go. NOW!"

Chuck heard what his girlfriend was saying, but didn't want to believe it. But he ran, holding her hand, fleeing from the horseman, leaving behind the man who had saved his life so many times. Chuck's tears vanished as they got closer to the forest; his heart became steel. They would pay for this, if it cost him his life. They would pay for taking his friend.

They were almost at the forest, about to reach the shade from the trees, when Chuck was sure there was a horse right behind them. He didn't want to look, he kept his eyes on the prize, on the forest. Sarah didn't share the same philosophy. She looked, and growled, and putting her hands on Chuck's left shoulder, pushed him, hard, off to the right, than dove to her left. Not a second later, a tribesman on his horse galloped in between the two lovers, where not two seconds ago they had been.

"SARAH!" he yelled. She was getting up off the ground, and she pointed her finger at the forest.

"Go Chuck, I'm right beside you." Chuck stood up and ran. Sarah was running right beside him, about ten feet to his left. The forest was a jump and a skip away when he tripped again.

"ARRGHHH," he yelled in anger as he face planted in the dirt. Spitting out dirt as he jumped up, finally entering the forest. He looked to his left. There was no one. "SARAH," he yelled at the top of his lungs. He frantically looked around, than left to go back the way he had came. Come hell or high water, he would find her. His own mortality wasn't even a thought on his mind. He reached the forest line, and a bullet entered the tree beside him. The tribesmen were jumping off the horses, and starting to run towards him.

Chuck stood there for a split second. Sarah could be out in that field, left alone to die. Or she could be ahead of him, in the forest. He had tripped, so that had slowed him down. Logic told him she was in the forest. And he couldn't help her if he was dead, he decided as bullets continued to rain down around him. One nicked the side of his neck, and he screamed. That made his decision for him. Unwillingly, he took back off into the forest, running blindly, holding one hand to his neck, the other flapping wildly.

Chuck paid no attention to where he was going, as long as he was going. He could hear the tribesmen behind him. He couldn't help Sarah until he got rid of them, lost them. He ran, occasionally tripping over roots that were above ground, or branches that had fallen, but he always managed to stay on his feet. This way, that way, sweat pouring out of him like a water main break, chest moving up and down as he sucked in as much air as he could. The sounds of the tribesman started to fade. Keep your feet moving, keep your feet moving, he told himself. Stay alive, stay alive for her. Oh Sarah…

When he couldn't hear them anything, when he couldn't hear their vicious, murderous voices, he slowed down, collapsing in a heap on the ground. Leaning head over stomach, his stomach lurched, and his eyes got wide, and he threw up the bag of chips he had ate during the jeep ride. That deprived him of air, air that right now, he needed. Waving his arms wildly as he puked, the pain in his bullet grazed neck came back to him.

Stomach finally empty, he pounded the ground with his fists as he tried to catch his breath, tried to collect his thoughts. They were gone. Sarah, oh dear God, Sarah. Casey. No, no way. Sarah. Chuck wanted to scream, but knew he couldn't. He had to keep moving, keep moving until he was sure he wouldn't be found. Than he could find her. He had to find her. She must be okay. Chuck stood up, and started running, this time keeping an eye out for his lover. Deeper and deeper, he ran into the forest that the local tribes called the Forest of Death. He would find her. It was too late for Casey, he thought, his stomach dropping, but he would find her. Or more likely, she would find him. He laughed at that, than kept running, one foot after the other.

* * *

**Extremely Long Foot Note: I would like to thank all the following for reviewing Chuck VS Season Four: **

**Elle1630, xx-crispy-mnms-lover-xx, passionedovermind, jinxed97, Nemo30, Tynianrex, Tempe4Booth, chucksara4ever, grimlock78, mikesul, anyabar1987, batripe, shortpinoyguy, redstarpuppy, Thokul, William Ashbless, and TheWriterPersonWhoWritesStuff.**

**In addition, I would also like to thank all of the following for putting Chuck VS Season Four on their Favorite or Story Alert list:**

**Rnnrgg, Pandki14, Omsicle, Osced, The Negotiator 2893, Bianquinha, Tynianrex, cgrasshopper3, 290989, number1don, chucksara4ever, Guava Seeds, Chrupy 23, Tempe4Booth, Kieran Campbell, Mensch, Sweet82405, sdchuckfan, .jhan, LostNThought, Zodi7, Elysion1879, grimlock 78, anyabar1987, chucklesfan93, shadeslayerw, HHr Its what I believe, thisyearslove10, agent chuckles, redstarpuppy, smrtqt12, Omgoth, Foxmac, Admiral K, ShinyJayne24, Courter21, nerdnotgeek, scottpwrs, notquiteyet, Thokul, Teekanne2210, stigbernard, little letters writer, RinkRatWriter, Beteen, Wilth, pupulegirl, passionovermind, pdunn92074, neko-in-tears, xx-crispy-mnms-lover-xx, batripe, kam666, TheWriterPersonWhoWritesStuff, and NeeTD.**

**Thank you all, it means a lot to me. :)**


	10. The Moon

**The Moon**

* * *

**Author's Note: The first part of this chapter is Sarah's point of view as Chuck and her run into the woods, so the last part of the last chapter, with Chuck alone in the forest, wondering where everyone is, hasn't happened yet. Just wanted to make sure that was clear… :)**

* * *

Sarah was running, running as fast as she could. The yells of the tribesmen behind her rattled in her head, and as she turned to make sure Chuck was still beside her, she saw him slightly behind her, picking himself up off the ground once again. As she reached the forest's edge, he was up and running, it was obvious he was going to make it into the forest before the tribesman reached him, so she scampered into the forest, planning in her head how she would circle around and meet Chuck and grab him before they continued on into the dark woods.

Bullets pelting trees as the tribesmen fired haphazardly into the forest, she jumped as she heard Chuck yell "SARAH" at the top of his lungs. She cursed under her breath. That would bring the tribesmen down upon him! She crouched low, keeping a low center of gravity, with her gun out, though she knew she couldn't use it. A gunshot would bring all of those men to her location in a heartbeat. Hiding behind a bush, she saw Chuck running back up to the edge of the forest. She also saw a man standing at the edge, one of the tribesmen. He was standing closer to where she had entered the forest, and due to the layout of the trees, he couldn't see Chuck, but his presence stopped Sarah from being able to go grab her boyfriend.

Sarah watched, helpless, as bullets whizzed by Chuck. One appeared to graze his neck, and he screamed, than took off. Sarah pumped her fist in victory. She moved along through the forest, intending to catch up with Chuck so they could escape together when she saw someone move behind Chuck. A large tribesman, ready to attack. Chuck didn't even know he was there!

With a growl Casey would have approved of, Sarah leapt out of the bushes and tackled the man before he could grab Chuck. Chuck, running for his life, was unaware of what Sarah had done, even though it had happened not ten feet behind him. With a grunt, the large tribesmen pushed her off of him onto the moss covered ground beside him. He reached for his machine gun, which had fallen to the ground, and Sarah twirled her legs, kicking it out of his hands and causing it to fly off into the bushes she had jumped out of.

The man went to get up, but Sarah leapt on him once again. He had a huge size advantage on her, and if she let him get his balance, she knew he would more than likely prevail. With her right hand she grabbed his ear; pulling her left hand back, she socked him in the face with all of her might. CRUNCH. Once, twice, a third time. Bending his head towards his shoulder by pulling on his ear, she sat up, on her knees, and put as much weight as she could into the forth punch, and bam, the man was down on the ground, out cold.

Sarah unclenched her fist and winced as pain shot up her arm. She heard a noise behind her, but didn't have time to react before CRACK! A sharp pain from being hit in the back of her head shot down her neck, and she collapsed in a heap on top of the man she had just knocked out, drifting off into an unwanted slumber.

* * *

It was strange what the mind went to, during situations like this, Chuck Bartowski thought to himself as he trounced through the forest. He thought back to about five years ago. Ellie loved Disney movies. She cried like a baby during Beauty and the Beast. His mind went back to when they had watched Finding Nemo together. 'Just keep swimming' the Ellen DeGeneres voiced fish had sang. Ellie had sang that for four months. 'Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…'

Now, as he was making his way though the forest, he was singing that same tune. 'Just keep swimming.' He told himself at the end of the ocean, instead of Sydney, there was Sarah. That was more than enough motivation to keep swimming.

The longer he walked, the more aware he became of the pain in his neck. He ran his fingers over the already drying blood. He shuddered as he thought of how close that one bullet came to ending it all. Stopping for a moment, he grabbed a leaf from a tree, and held it to his neck. Than he kept going. Swimming, swimming…

Faster and faster he went, faster and faster he swam through the forest. He kept his eyes on his feet, put his whole mind in to the tune and his feet. Don't think about anything else. Don't think about Sarah, or Casey… don't think about food, or a doctor. Think about survival. He now knew that Sarah would find him, of that he was sure. He was lost, and whenever he was lost, she was there. If he could, he would try and look for her, but for all he knew, he could be backtracking accidentally right now. He had no idea where the hell he was. So he kept walking.

Than, he was running. Who cared about breathing? That wasn't important. He just had to move. It was getting darker, it would be night soon. He didn't care, not right then. He was looking at his feet when he fell. He took a step, and suddenly, there was nothing there, and Chuck fell, going down, down, down, face first, hitting water at a very awkward angle.

As he sank into the river, he swallowed a lot of water, and he waved his arms, forgetting he knew how to swim for a second. He was in shock. Water was all around him, and it was shockingly cold. It assaulted his senses, until his mind went blank, and he flashed.

**-an image of a little animated man swimming upwards, out of the water-**

Chuck immediately started swimming, up, up, up. When his head popped out of the water, his mouth opened and he choked out what he thought was a gallon of water. Than he breathed. Oh glorious air. He treaded water for a moment before he realized he was still moving.

He looked back up at where he had fallen from. It was a large cliff, with a ridge that jutted outwards. Chuck cursed himself, not quite able to understand how he hadn't heard the sound of the large river. Now it was so loud, it filled his brain. He turned around in the water as he started to swim, eyeing the bank on the opposite side of which he had entered it, looking for a place to come ashore. After a minute or two, he saw a spot.

Now, as his mind sang 'just keep swimming', it was real. He didn't make it to that small shore in time, and he watched, helpless, as the current of the river pulled him by it. He quickly moved his eyes back down the river, looking for another spot to get out at. Three minutes later, he saw a small shore, and furiously flailed his arms and legs, using up any reserve energy he had left in the tanks, and reached the rock filled sand. He collapsed onto the small shore, pebbles and small stones denting his beat and exhausted body, but he didn't care. He was out of the water.

As Chuck slowly picked himself up, he noticed that it seemed a lot darker now. The water seemed to have cleared his mind, he no longer a mindless robot, in shock over what was happening to him. "I have to find a place to sleep," he muttered to himself. He walked slowly, into the forest, until the came across a rather large tree, with a small clearing around it. He sat down beside the tree, putting his back up against it, and lay there, not moving, trying to think how in the world he was going to escape this place with Sarah.

* * *

The man in the woods watched as the soaked young man sat down, putting his back up against the old tree. The boy looked as though he had been dragged though hell and back. The man in the woods decided he would watch him some more, than decide what to do. One did not survive as long as he had by being careless…

* * *

Sarah Walker blinked her eyes furiously as she heard someone saying her name repeatedly, over and over. At first all she saw was darkness, but eventually, shadows and dark shapes started to form.

"Walker," the voice said, in a hurried whisper. "Walker, are you alright?"

Sarah looked over to her right and stared in to the eyes of the dead. "John, is that you?"

Casey grunted. "No, it's my ghost." Casey was, like her, tied up.

"How did you possibly survive," she asked him, confused. "You charged the whole gang of them?"

"They wanted us alive. But that doesn't mean they won't hurt us."

"How so?"

With a grunt, Casey pointed to his left leg. Sarah's moved her head to look down and instantly regretted it as pain burst throughout her temple. When the pain had subsided enough to open her eyes, she gasped as she saw a blood soaked handkerchief wrapped around Casey's thigh. "They shot you!"

"Yep. One direct shot to make sure I wouldn't move, one horseman to guard me, and the rest took off after Chuck and you."

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" Casey looked around, somewhat nervously. He looked as though he was trying to say something, but couldn't get it out.

"What's up," Sarah asked him groggily, still not all there yet.

"Well, Chuck's not here, did they… did they…" he trailed off, unable to continue.

"Last I saw Chuck, he was scrambling through that forest we were running towards." Casey breathed a huge sigh of relief. Sarah continued to speak. "And if they had caught him, he would be here with us. So I guess that means he got away."

"Until he comes back to rescue you."

"He won't do that, he knows how outnumbered he is. He's not a fool," Sarah scoffed.

Casey laughed. "You underestimate that boy's devotion to you. He'd take on the armies of hell, single-hand to rescue you. A little thing like twenty armed tribesmen won't give him a pause."

Sarah groaned; Casey was right. Chuck couldn't get captured, he couldn't! That settled it, she decided right then. Casey and her would just have to escape first, before he could try and break her free.

For the first time, Sarah looked around at her surroundings. They were in a small, beat up tent, and Sarah could see shadows moving all around the outside of it. "Have they spoken to you at all," she asked Casey.

"No, not a word. They just threw us in here, haven't been back in since."

Sarah sighed, putting her head back as far as she could. There was a hole in the tent canvas, and through it, she could see the moon.

Chuck, leaning his head back against the giant tree, opened his eyes, and saw the same moon.

And at that moment, just for a second, both of them could feel their lover, feel the other deep inside their selves. They were not in separate place, they were beside each other, touching one another. They both whispered "I love you," as the moon shined brightly in their eyes, connecting them, making them one.

And not twenty feet away from Chuck, the man in the woods watched, and waited.

* * *

**Thanks for reading; I really appreciate all the comments, and hope you guys enjoyed this entry! :) Let me know! :)**


	11. Night's Tale

**Night's Tale**

* * *

**Author's Note: Previously on Chuck VS Season Four: Morgan, Alex, Devon and Ellie are kidnapped, captors unknown.**

* * *

Morgan thought that his thumbs had hurt a lot, when he had broken them, for the love of his country, but this had to be ten times as worse. He desperately tried not to let his wrists rub against the ropes that tied him to the chair. The burn that existed on his wrists from trying to escape for the past two days was unbearable. He wished he could ask his friends if they had similar problems, but alas, all of their mouths were gagged.

Morgan wished he knew why Alex, Ellie, Devon and himself were all taken. He knew it had to do something with Chuck, and perhaps Operation Cygnus. That was what Chuck had asked him to look up, right before he was taken. He told himself that if they tried to force what he knew about Operation Cygnus out of him, he would withhold, he would keep Chuck safe, not tell them what he knew. But deep down, he thought of all the horrific torture scenes he had seen over the years, and if his captors had seen any of them, they would get the information out of him.

But Operation Cygnus only explained why Alex and him were there, he thought. Ellie and Awesome knew nothing about what Chuck was doing on his personal time. That led Morgan to think that they were there for blackmail purposes, to force Chuck, Casey and Sarah to do something.

Two days now they had been in this place. Once a day, they were allowed up, one at a time to use the restroom by a man dressed in all black with a ski mask on. They also were forced to eat in that time, and drink, the only food and water they would get all day. The man, or the Cylon, as Morgan had come to hatefully think of him, never talked, and didn't want to be talked too. Ellie had tried, the first time she was let free to go to the restroom, and her right cheek bore a huge bruise. Devon had gone ballistic when that happened, Morgan was afraid he might go insane.

That lead him to think of what had happened not three hours ago. It was Devon's turn to go to the restroom, and as he was walking towards the small bathroom connected to the enclosed interrogation like room they were being held in, the Cylon man behind him, Devon had quickly spun around on his heels and thrown a punch directly at the Cylon's face. The Cylon had sidestepped the punch as if Devon had told him he was going to do it beforehand. He grabbed Devon around the back of the neck and forced him to the ground, and kicked him in the ribs repeatedly. Devon's muffled grunts could be heard, and it was a sickening sound. Morgan had looked at Ellie while this was going on, and he could tell her wide, panicked eyes wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She was a deer, caught in the headlights. And they all were a couple of rabbits, trapped in a damn cage. Freaking Cylons.

* * *

Hugo Longhi watched the prisoners on the 46 inch video screen. As expected they had been really easy to retrieve. The Fornax Group knew what it was doing. Now, if only they could put the prisoners to use.

Hugo paused, and thought back. Just a week ago, the thought of kidnapping people, innocent people, would have terrified the secetary. Than, Mr. Caplan had given him a gun, and with the sound of the bullet hitting the failed one's head, came Hugo's rebirth. He was a new man. What was kidnapping a few people, after you've killed someone? It couldn't get any worse. He looked at the prisoners again. Well, for them it could.

Using the people that Charles Bartowski cared about to get him to come into the lion's den was a brilliant move, and on that would work. Mr. Caplan was a brilliant man, for coming up with this plan. But the problem was, Bartowski, Walker and Casey had gone off the gird. They could not be found. And if they couldn't be found, than they had no idea that Bartowski's friends and family were being held. It was rather annoying.

But more annoying than that was the fact that they may have found something out, something about where Mary Bartowski was being held. Whereabouts unknown, they could be breaking her out of CIA custody right now, and that would not do. The Fornax Group must have her! They must, or Mr. Caplans twenty years of planning, and careful guiding, would go down the toilet. Hugo told himself, we will succeed. We will. He would not fail Mr. Caplan. He would not fail the Fornax Group. His life depended on it.

* * *

Chuck lay back against the tree in the clearing he had found for the whole night, never really falling asleep. Resting his eyes would be a better way to put it. He was exhausted, there was no doubt about that. He could sleep eight men's sleep. But, he was in the middle of an African forest where not ten hours previously, a tribe had attacked him and his team, his girlfriend, and now, he was alone. He dare not fall into a slumber. The problem with that was, it gave him time to think. Sarah, oh Sarah, where was she. Casey, slain in the line of duty, to protect Sarah and Chuck, to give them a chance. Tears fell from his eyes.

Over and over, he thought about these things, and his sister, and Morgan, as the air grew colder. It was so hot during the day, he couldn't believe it got this cold at night. He shivered nonstop, his bones still wet from his unwanted swim. He learned to adjust as dawn approached, and the beginnings of sunlight started to pour in through the trees in this forest that only grew because of the river that fed it. A few more moments resting my eyes, Chuck thought, and I'll get up and walk. Walk along the river. That'll have to take me somehow, hopefully to their camp. That was a revelation he had felt during the night. Sarah was in trouble. He knew it in his heart. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. So he must rescue her. There was no question in his heart, or his mind, for that matter.

As he lay there, eyes closed, sun coming out of it's hiding spot, Chuck's heart started racing. He had the feeling someone was watching him, that there was a presence, there with him. Chuck took deep breaths, shaking now from fear, not from the cold, and opened his eyes, than jumped up and back, against the tree. A large African stood before him. "Hi… um… who are you?" Chuck asked nervously.

The man smiled, and took a step closer. "I am a friend," he said in a deep, gentle voice. Chuck's dark eyes made contact with the stranger's bright green eyes, the greenest eyes Chuck had ever seen before. Chuck tilted his head back and his mind went blank of all senses and thoughts expect those that flashed through it…

**-a picture of a light switch, painted red-**

**-a file with classified stamped on the cover-**

**-an image of a small tribal village-**

**-a silhouette of a man standing on a hill as the sun rose-**

**-back to the picture of the light switch, painted red-**

Chuck gasped as he came out of the flash, breathing in deeply as if he had just been underwater, and devoid of air. His eyes made contact with the man once again, who was now looking at him curiously. "You are Eko Doleke, of the Dao-Fambetta Tribe."

The man shook his head in affirmation. "Yes, I am, but you may call me Sweet."

Sweet, as he wanted to be called, was a very big man. He stood about six inches taller than Chuck, and his shoulders were a lot broader. Chuck noticed that he wore no shoes, his tough, worn feet, hardened by years of tough terrain, were already as tough as hide. It look as though the man wore something similar to deerskin as pants, though Chuck thought it was made out of a hide of on the local animals, maybe a hyena or something similar. He wore a gray shirt that was covered in the dirt of the country, open done the middle, no buttons to close it. Big walking stick in his right hand, and a satchel around his back, Chuck almost laughed as his mind went to an African mailman. This Sweet was old, his hair, slightly more than a buzz cut, was gray, as was his beard that hung about three inches off his face. But despite his age, his back was straight, and Chuck had no doubt the man was in great physical shape.

"Ahh… Sweet," Chuck said nervously, still leaning back against the tree. "How did you get that nickname?" Keep him talking, find out if he's crazy, and what he wants, Chuck's mind told him, though his instincts were telling him that Mr. Sweet here was a good man.

"Your fellow countrymen gave it to me. They did not like saying Mr. Doleke over and over. You have lazy tongues." Sweet started walking, towards the river that Chuck had fallen in the evening before. When Chuck didn't follow, Sweet turned around, and beckoned to Chuck with his left hand. "Come."

Chuck hesitated. He had no idea who this man was. He was in the Intersect, which was enough of a rarity to be a caution flag for Chuck. However, he seemed like a good man. And if Mr. Sweet here could help Chuck find Sarah… well, Chuck would have signed his soul over to the devil for that to happen.

"I… I have to get my friend. She was… I'm sure she was taken."

Sweet paused, and wrinkled his nose. "Men on horses?"

Chuck nodded. "With guns."

Sweet did not react in a positive or negative manner, but Chuck thought he saw the man's shoulders slack for a split second, than he was back, standing taller than ever. "I'm sorry, friend, but the Azcliz's have her."

"The who," Chuck asked, confused.

"Let me think," Sweet said in his deep, yet somehow soft voice. "They are the Blackwater Group of Africa."

"Mercenaries," Chuck asked, surprised.

"Yes, that is the word."

"Well that's cute," Chuck said. It had to be that group he had flashed on, the Fornax Group, Chuck thought to himself. They had killed Marlordore Trinsburg, and now they were trying to kill him and his team.

"If by cute, you mean not good, than you are correct." Sweet turned and kept walking, again, towards the river.

"Wait, hold up," Chuck yelled, running up beside him. "I have to find her, I have to rescue her." "I know this," Sweet said, walking as they talked. "I will help you find your friend."

"Uh… thanks… you do know they are dangerous, right," Chuck asked the elderly man. He knew he probably shouldn't be reminding the man this, but he didn't want the man to get into his business unless he knew what might happen. Sure, the man may be working for the enemy, but if he was, he would take Chuck to Sarah, and if he wasn't, well, all the better.

"I know better than anyone," he said slowly.

Silence filled the forest for a few moments before Chuck once again spoke. "Do you know where their camp is?"

"Yes."

They reached the river, and Chuck was able to look at it in daylight for the first time. It was not as wild as he had remembered from the night before, but not tame enough to embarrass him. They started following it, downstream. Chuck remembered the previous night's swim. He would never be telling Casey that his mind had been forced to flash on how to swim, since he was panicking, that was for sure. A shot of pain shot up Chuck's chest as he remembered, all to quickly, that Casey wasn't around anymore for him to tell. God, how was he going to tell Alex? She had just met her father, and than he was taken from her. All because of him, all because of Chuck. If he wouldn't have asked for Casey's help…

"Why are you helping me," Chuck asked the man as they walked. He had to know, before he put another innocent soul, or he hoped an innocent soul, in jeopardy.

"Someone helped me out once. You remind me of this person I owe my life too."

Chuck thought about that. "You don't even know my name."

Sweet laughed. "I can keep calling you friend, or you can tell me your name, friend." He laughed again.

"My name is Chuck, Chuck Bartowski."

At that, Sweet stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at Chuck. He raised his left hand to Chuck's cheek. Chuck stood there, mesmerized. Tears flowed down the old man's cheek, out of his bright green eyes.

"You have your mother Mary's eyes, Chuck."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I really enjoyed writing the new character, Sweet, in this chapter, let me know what you think of him and the chapter. Thanks! :)**


	12. Splinter

**Splinter**

* * *

**Author's Note: The first section of this chapter does involve Sweet, who I introduced in the previous chapter, Night's Tale, but in this section he has not yet been given that nickname, so he is called by his real name, Eko Doleke, as mentioned in the last chapter. :)**

* * *

**Thirty Five Years Ago…**

Eko Doleke held his wailing baby in his arms, patting her back, trying to get her to stop screaming. It seemed to be a fruitless exercise; every time his hand touched her back, she let out an extra loud wail. Eko kept looking at the door of his hut, impatiently, until, finally, his wife returned.

"What did you did, Eko, steal milk from her mouth," his wife, Kila, teased him with a smile on her face. She took the infant in her arms, and held her to her breasts, and almost immediately, the babe was calmed, and stopped screaming.

Eko look at his wife in disbelief. "You are indeed a miracle," he told his bride, bending over to kiss her forehead.

"No, my dear Eko, you are. You gave me this wonderful gift, this child. Have you thought of a name yet?"

Eko raised his eyebrows. "You know that I told you that you should be the one to do this."

"That goes against all customs, Eko."

"I don't care about customs, or traditions. If I did, we wouldn't be married." Eko and Kila were from separate tribes, and intertribal marriage was almost unheard of. But ever since he had came across her one autumn day, while she was washing herself in the middle of the savanna, he had been… smitten, yes that was the word, and wouldn't take no for an answer. Luckily, she was as outspoken as he. He was also lucky his tribe, the Dao-Fambetta's, had accepted her. Otherwise, they might have had to become one of the Lost Ones.

"We will name her together, if you must be stubborn."

"Yes. As soon as I get home, tonight."

"Where are you going?"

"I promised Dokas I would help him dig a pit in his field."

Kila wrinkled her nose. "Isn't he that crazy man?"

"Old age has not been well to him, but he was my father's friend. I will help him. I must admit, I am curious what the pit is for though."

"Well, be seeing you. Come back soon." One last kiss and Eko was gone, though the front door, and into the small village of the Dao-Fambetta's.

About thirty small huts were in the main village, all of them looking exactly the same. The Dao-Fambetta's were farmers, they did not migrate like many of the other tribes in Ethiopia. Small children ran around under Eko's feet, playing games of touching and hiding. They were too skinny. Everyone was too skinny. Any food that could be spared was given to tribes that demanded it; if the food was not given, than people would die. Eko clenched his large walking stick until his knuckles were white.

He walked thoughout the village, waving his hand at his neighbors as he passed them, and more often than not, he got a wave in return. He was considered odd, and a troublemaker for bringing in someone from the outside to marry, but his father, while he was alive, was well respected, and Eko himself was known as an extremely hard worker. That was something he had learned; hard work above all.

He slowly made his way out of the village, and three fields over, he reached Doka's field. It looked as though the eccentric old man had already started digging. "Hello, uncle," Eko said as he got close.

"Ah, Eko, you finally decided to come? Grab a shovel and help me dig deep, and we will make it!"

Eko grabbed the shovel laying beside the hole and climbed down into it. The pit was already about five feet deep. "What is this pit for," asked Eko.

"It's to catch the frenzies," Doka said energetically. Eko shook his head in agreement. He had no idea what a frenzy was. But he helped the man, and dug, and listened to the old man's stories as he did so.

The ground seemed to be getting softer, moister, as they dug deeper. When Eko raised his shovel, and thrust it into the ground, all of a sudden, his shovel blade splintered something, and a burst of liquid shot out of the ground, instantly covering them both. It was the color of the sun, and thick; creamy. Eko stood in shock as Doka danced. "What is this stuff," yelled Eko, confused.

"I don't know, but it is a miracle!"

Eko agreed, and cried as the golden liquid continued to cover him. It was a miracle…

* * *

**Back in Present Day**

General Beckman was not pleased, and right now, her ire was directed once again at her hapless assistant. "What do you mean, you can not get a hold of the Azcliz's," she yelled. "Do they have Bartowski, Walker and Casey, like we paid them to do, or not?" To her, it was a simple question. To her assistant, not so much.

"Well, they haven't replied, which either means they have failed to retrieve them, or they have them, and… and have decided they want more for them."

"They cannot have more," Beckman declared. "You have better hope we aren't in a bidding war for them, with someone else…" She was worried about that the most. She did not want the Fornax Group to get a hold of her team. That would be a disaster."

* * *

Sarah groaned as she tried to stretch. It was quite the task when you were tied to a chair. It had been a long night. She had not gotten any sleep, and from looking at Casey's grumpy face across from her, he hadn't either.

"Casey," she whispered. His eyes immediately went to hers. "We have to get out of here."

He nodded his head, than whispered back. "We were set up, I'm guessing by that Fornax Group Chuck flashed on." Casey had said his name. Chuck. Sarah's stomach dropped as she hoped he was okay.

"Yes. And I don't want to be in their custody at all. Look at what they did to Marlordore Trinsburg." Sarah shuttered. "Do you have any ideas?"

"I've got one. Why don't I yell and then…" Casey was cut off as three people entered the tent for the first time. All three were tribesman, that was obvious. Their clothes showed the wear and tear of the country, and hard living. All three didn't appear to have guns, though two wore long knifes, almost long enough to be machetes at their side. The one who didn't have a knife carried a box, and set it on the ground between Sarah and Casey. He spoke.

"I need you to tell me what you know." His English was slow, and it sounded as though he had learned from tapes or something similar. Casey and Sarah looked at each other, and remained silent. The man spoke up again, as his two friends stood by the door, no emotions at all in their faces.

"If you do not tell me, the same fate awaits you as your friend."

Sarah's heart skipped about three beats as she turned beet red. She spoke, ignoring Casey shaking his head no at her.

"Tell me what you mean by that."

The man laughed. "Your friend, the third one of you, decided to try and rescue you. He is dead."

Sarah closed her eyes and bared her teeth as her body tensed up. She had no way of knowing whether this man spoke the truth or not, but hearing what he said… that was her Chuck he was talking about! Her Chuck! She pulled on her binds harder than ever before, desperately trying to get free, so she could rip this liar's throat out with her bare hands. The arrogant bastard laughed once again at her efforts.

"One of you, tell me why you came here. I must know."

Casey remained silent, however, Sarah didn't. She wanted to provoke this monster. Than, she may find a way out of this, to her Chuck, who was still alive. He was! "You won't," she said, and spit at him.

Casey groaned as the man wiped the spit off his shoulder. The man than knelt down, and opened the box he had brought in. He pulled out little splinters of wood. Sarah and Casey both recoiled at the sight of that. They knew what it meant.

The man noticed their reactions, and smiled. "Yes, these are bamboo splinters, and they are very special, indeed." He next took out a little hammer. "Now, are you going to talk, or am I going to have to make you hurt?"

Casey and Sarah kept their eyes connected on one another. They had been trained for this moment. They would not talk. She would not talk. Oh god, what did they do to her Chuck?

"Good," the man said as he stood up and walked behind Sarah. "Let's see if you will talk after I hurt you. Or maybe your manly friend here will speak up, not wanting to see you hurt. No matter what, I will get my answers."

He placed the splinter of bamboo right under Sarah fingernail, on her left hand, as it was tied behind the chair. Sarah clenched her teeth, and tried to keep her eyes on Casey. She thought back to her training. She knew she had to scream, don't waste energy trying to be tough. Use the energy not to speak, and give up information. She knew what she had to do. She had to…

"Arrgghhhhhh…" she screamed as the man forced the bamboo splinter up inside her fingernail with his bare hands. The pain was unbearable, and tears fell down her cheeks. How a little thing like that could hurt so much was one of the mysteries of the human body. Casey stared at her, strongly, willing her to be brave. He need not worry.

The man moved onto her middle finger, and repeated the procedure. Her toes curled up in her shoes as her body shook as the pain overwhelmed her brain, causing all motor functions to shut down. She screamed from the pain, but refused to beg. Her ring finger was next, and by now, the man was impatient, and jammed the splinter in with more force. Sarah's body convulsed so much from the pain that her chair fell over.

The man looked down and her, and she look back up at him. Before he could ask if she was ready to talk yet, she smiled at him, eyes full of tears, body shocked by the pain, heart stronger than ever. He scowled, and putting her chair upright again, motioned for the two men guarding the door to hold her chair, and her body in place. He used the hammer to drive the bamboo splinter into her thumb. She couldn't see, the pain blinded her. He kept hammering, obviously mad and taking it out on her. She blacked out, unable to scream at the end. No sound could do the pain justice.

* * *

"You still haven't told me how you know my mother," Chuck said as Sweet led the way through the grassland. About two hours ago, they had left the forest, and started out into the savanna. The conversation had not gone the way Chuck liked. Sweet was a man of few words.

"It is not the time."

"When will it be the time?"

"After we rescue your friend, this Sarah."

Chuck nodded his head. He could hold off any questions he had, as long as he got his Sarah back. One thing at a time. "These Azcliz, as you called them, they… they killed my other friend. Colonel John Casey. They murdered him." Saying it out loud was a chore, and it wrecked havoc on Chuck's heart.

Sweet turned back to look at him. "I'm sorry, friend. The Azcliz have no souls. They are the damned, and they know it, and embrace Satan's hate."

"Great," Chuck muttered. He had to stop thinking about this, about Casey, about Sarah, for now. He had to calm down before they reached the camp, or he may not think rationally, and he had to have the Intersect work. He had to! "How did you get your nickname, Sweet?"

"Your mother gave it to me. She said I sang like an angel, full of sweetness. She said calling me Sweetness though, would make me sound like a cookie, so she called me Sweet. It stuck with the other Americans."

Chuck laughed. "I don't remember much about my mother, I was nine when she left…"

Sweet turned and looked at Chuck, and once again, it was impossible not to notice his green glaring eyes. It was also impossible to read his eyes, though Chuck was sure kindness was behind them, for a second there, there was something else. Sweet kept walking.

"Can you sing for me."

"Later."

"Why?"

Sweet crouched down on his knees and waved for Chuck to come close. "Because we approach the Azcliz's camp. We must be quiet, and… careful. We need to get close, to see what we must do."

"To make a plan," Chuck asked.

"Yes, to make a plan, to rescue your friend."

Chuck nodded his head. Sarah. She was all that mattered. He hoped with every fiber of his being she was okay. If not… God help the people that caused her pain. Chuck's fists were white with fury as they snuck their way closer to the camp, closer to the site of where it would go down.

* * *

**Thanks for reading this new chapter. I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know! It was painful for -me- to write that middle part there, I'll tell you what…**


	13. The Rescue

**The Rescue**

* * *

**Author's Note: This was a fun chapter to write; I hope everyone enjoys it. :)**

* * *

**35 Years Ago**

"Give your new partner a high five," Charles Larkin said to Mary Bartowski. She smiled, at him, flushed, still not sure what exactly to think. She had just passed her red test; she was now officially a spy with the CIA. But she had killed someone, and that, she didn't like. Even though the man whose chest was now decorated with her bullets was an evil man, she didn't like to take lives. She vowed right than to spare all the lives she could.

"Thank you," she said, giving him a quick hug. "I can't wait to see what our first mission is."

"I already got the orders," Charles said, reaching down beside him and picking a folder up off the ground.

"What is it? We going to stop a war? Jump out of an airplane onto another airplane in the middle of a gun battle?" Mary and Charles both laughed at that.

"No, nothing quite so glamorous as that. We are going to Ethiopia."

Mary wrinkled her nose. "What in Ethiopia?"

"A tribe in Ethiopia has discovered some unknown element in the earth, and we are there to make sure nobody else finds out about it."

"Why do we have to keep this element a secret?"

"Preliminary reports from our scientists suggest the element could have useful military uses. We need to make sure nobody else comes in and takes it from us."

Mary nodded her head, this sounded important. That was good. "When do we leave?"

"Tonight."

* * *

**Back In Present Day**

Chuck and Sweet lay crouched on the ground, behind a sparse bush, looking out into the camp of the Azcliz's, the camp where Sarah was being held. If she had been captured. Chuck hadn't mentioned that to Sweet yet, and it thought it would be a good time. This man was going to risk his life for Chuck, and for Sarah, he deserved to know all the information.

"Sweet," Chuck whispered softly.

"Yes, friend?"

"I just thought that you should know… I'm not 100 percent sure they have Sarah, my girlfriend… I just have a feeling…"

"They have her."

Chuck paused and looked at Sweet. "How are you so sure?"

Sweet pointed at a tent that was in the middle of the circle of canvas tents. "There have been men guarding that tent the whole time we've been here. There is a person in that tent, someone they have captured, and it is safe to assume that the person in that tent is Miss. Walker."

Chuck smiled. "Good eyes, Sweet. Good eyes."

"Thank you," he said in his gentle voice, and for someone reason, that almost made Chuck laugh.

"So, what's the plan? How do we get to that tent? I've counted at least twenty men, not counting anyone who is sleeping or sitting in their tents."

Sweet leaned over and whispered in Chuck's ear. "This is what we will do." As he continued talking, Chuck's face held a grim look. This would not be easy. But it had to be done. He would give his life for her.

* * *

Sarah's eyes popped open, and once again, she was greeted by the sight of that damn tent. She swore under her breath, and Casey immediately looked up at her, a look of concern all over his face.

"Walker, are you all right?"

Sarah laughed. "It'll take more than putting wood under my fingernails to make me worry, Casey."

Casey smiled. "That's my girl."

"I hope by that you mean daughter."

"Again, not interested, sister."

They smiled at each other. Sarah had a monster of a headache, and she was very sure that she no longer had a fingernail on her left thumb, but besides that, all was good.

"What did they do after I passed out," she asked.

"After he realized you were no longer awake, he quit. The two men he was with cleaned you up. He half-heartedly tried to get me to talk, threatening and such, but I think he knew I wasn't going to budge." Casey looked at Sarah, a really serious look on his face. "We need to find a way out of here now, Walker. I'm pretty sure that man would kill one of us to try and get the other to talk."

"Should we try and come up with a story?"

Casey shook his head no. "We don't know how much they know. That first question could just be a trick, and if we lie there and they know it…" he trailed off.

"We're screwed," Sarah finished.

Just than, they both look up, and Sarah had to try and twist her head around as they heard a noise that sounded like a stampede, and men running everywhere, screaming. The two permanent shadows that had stood guard outside their canvas tent were gone.

Casey and Sarah turned to look at one another.

"This was heaven-sent," Sarah said, awe in her voice.

"I don't know about that," Casey said, "but I do know we'll never have another chance to escape like this one. Quick, lets try and bounce our chairs close together, than we'll tip them over, and put out hands side by side and untie each other's ropes."

"Gotcha," Sarah said, as she strained every muscle as she tried to get closer to Casey, tried to escape this hell.

* * *

Mr. Sweet crawled carefully along the outside perimeter of the camp, slowly but surely making his way to the fenced in area where the horses were held. Nobody was guarding it, and unless someone decided to go for an afternoon ride, nobody would be coming to stop him from completing his task. One hand on the ground, the other clenching his giant walking stick, he thought about his new friend. Chuck Bartowski. He reminded him so much of his mother, it was almost unbearable. It had been many years since Sweet had done anything like this; he was getting to be an old man. But from the moment he had looked in his young friend's eyes, he had felt… reawakened. Reborn. Reenergized. He could feel the blood flowing through his veins, he imagined it was what people who took that awful concoction felt like. He wouldn't know, thanks to Mary.

Now came the dangerous part, Sweet thought to himself. He had to go out in the open, without being detected, and get all the way to the gate that held the horses in. He started crawling, very, very slowly, not keeping his eyes on where he was going, but on the camp, making sure nobody was looking this way. Once, a man turned as though he may walk that way, and Sweet froze, ready to run, but the man turned away. Sweet continued on his way, and reached the gate. He slowly reached up, and undid the latch, and swung it open. The horses paid it no mind.

Going into the corral, Sweet made his way to the side of the corral opposite the gate, and suddenly standing up, clapped his hands and screamed, running at the thirty or so horses assembled. They took off, surprised and scared, just as he had planned. As they ran through the gate and off into the seemingly endless savanna, Sweet hit the ground. He could hear screams from the camp. Looking up through the grass, he could see the backs of a number of people head off on foot, after their horses. Sweet smiled. It had worked. Time for the second part of the plan.

Sweet waited until he was sure the horses, and the Azcliz who were chasing them were far enough away that they couldn't be called back, and than he stood up, right at the gate of the corral, and screamed, as loud as he could, as deep as he could.

Every remaining person in the camp turned to look at Sweet, and he laughed, loud and deep. "Death is a gift," he whispered to himself as he started to run towards the camp, carrying his large walking stick over his right shoulder, both hands clenching it.

It took a few seconds for the tribesmen in the camp to react, but they did, and they came after him. Sweet screamed again as he ran, yelling like a wild man. It was quite fun, he thought. Liberating. The first man to reach him had a knife pulled out and his strategy for defeating Sweet seemed to be just to simply stab the man. Sweet shook his head. He kept running at the man, and picking his walking stick up off his shoulder, he swung it as one would swing a baseball bat, and SMASH, the stick made contact with the tribesman's head. He was easily thrown off his feet, like a rag doll, and he landed some ten feet later. He was dead. Sweet looked at the body, and sighed. That was not fun. He hated taking life. This was not going to be a good day.

Sweet looked up. There were about nine tribesmen left, which was close to his estimate of about twenty people going after the horses. They had stopped in shock when they saw what he had done to their fellow tribesman, but Sweet did not. He kept running, straight at them. BAM! He nailed a tribesman in the gut with his stick, propelling him into one of his friends, and the two fell backwards into a tent.

Two men rushed at Sweet, and Sweet's walking stick took the one out by the knees. CRACK! The man's knees were bent sideways, he was no longer a threat. His cries echoed in Sweet's head. Sweet groaned as someone jumped on his back, hands around his neck. Dropping his walking stick momentarily, he reached behind him, putting his own hands on that tribesmen's neck. SNAP! The man's neck was broken, just like that. Life was so fragile. He quickly and surely threw the man off his back and over his own head, aiming at the shocked man who stood before him, his friend with the broken knees crying at his feet. The tribesman whose neck Sweet had just broken flew through the air, due to Sweets massive strength, and knocked that fellow tribesman off his feet.

Suddenly, Sweet felt a sharp pain in his left arm, and looked down to see a small throwing knife sticking out of it. He quickly pulled it out, and returned it to the man who had scarred him. Only this time, it didn't go in a arm, but an eye.

There were now three tribesmen left, and they were circling Sweet. He picked up his walking stick once more, and smiled at them. "Ready to dance," he asked. Show no fear, he thought to himself, and your opponents surely will.

* * *

Chuck lay in the grass, ready to run when he heard the sound. It was a relativity simple plan that Sweet had come up with, but most of the time, that was what it took. They didn't need a complicated Scooby Doo-esque trap, this would work. It had too! Sweet would release the horses, hoping causing most of the tribesmen to go after their prized herd. Sweet would distract the rest while Chuck rescued Sarah, than the two of them would help Sweet get away. It was easy to remember, and Chuck's mind was so distracted he was glad of that. He knew one wrong move could mean Sarah's life.

He heard what sounded like a stampede, and he knew it had begun. He waited, muscles tight, ready to run. He concentrated all his might on listening. He did not want to miss the signal.

Chuck need not worry. A giant scream came out of nowhere. Sweet sure had lungs on him. That would hopefully send the remaining tribesmen his way, leaving the middle tent in the camp, the tent where Sarah was, free for Chuck to get too. He took off. He ran past the first row of tents. No one came after him. The second row, the coast was clear. He was almost there, just one more turn… and BAM, there were two tribesmen in front of him suddenly, staring and glaring. Chuck's mind went blank as he flashed.

**-an image of a little man doing kung fu moves-**

Chuck's face was determined. No one would stop him. He leapt into the air, right foot aimed at the man on the right's chest. His foot connected with the target, and the man was thrown backwards, falling on his back, and not moving. Chuck saw a tent spike sticking through his chest.

The other man, who was to the left of Chuck, ran at him and tried to tackle Chuck. Chuck grabbed the man's arm and CRACK, broke it like a straw as he forced the man to the ground. The man cried out, and Chuck hit nerve points in the man's neck, knocking him out. These people may have killed Casey, but he would not kill them. Looking at the man with the tent stake through his chest, Chuck felt sad. But now was not the time. The middle tent awaited him. Sarah.

He ran, and burst through the door, and stood there, shocked by what he saw. Sarah was there allright, tied up in a chair that was tipped over on the ground, and so was Casey! Their eyes connected, and tears left Chuck's eyes. He dove down to the ground, and undid Sarah's bounds, talking the whole time, not letting her get a word in edgewise.

"Sarah, you're alive! I knew it! I'm so happy to see you, when I lost you, in the forest, well, I've never felt so alone in my life, and Sarah, oh I love you so much, and…" he was cut off as she grabbed him and kissed him, harder and more passionately than ever before. The kiss was unbelievable.

Casey grunted once, than twice, than said, "Sorry to interrupt here…" he trailed off. It was even hard for him to be more than mildly upset.

"Oh yes! Casey!" Chuck moved over to him and untied him. Before Casey could get up, Chuck hugged him, and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm so happy to see you! You are alive!"

"And if your lips ever touch another part of my body you're dead," he growled. Now he was not amused at all. Chuck and Sarah both had to help him up. "What happened to your leg?"

"I got shot, genius."

"Be nice to Chuck, Casey." Chuck and Sarah smiled at one another, and leaned behind Casey to steal a quick kiss. Casey closed his eyes, exasperated.

Suddenly, Chuck squealed. "Crap, I forgot about Sweet!"

Sarah frowned. "What is Sweet," she asked as they made their way through the door of the tent.

"He's alone outside with at least ten tribesmen, we have to rescue…" Chuck trailed off as the three of them exited the tent, and saw what lay before them. Ten or so bodies, all littering the ground, and Sweet standing in the middle of them, tall and proud, walking stick in hand, painted a bright red. "We have to go," he said. "The rest could be back anytime."

Team Chuck stood there in silence, shocked. Sarah spoke up first.

"Who is this guy?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, and hope it lived up to your expectations. Thanks so much! Please review, and let me know what you think. :)**


	14. Your Name

**Your Name**

* * *

**Author's Note: Previously on Chuck VS Season Four: 35 years previously, Eko Doleke (Sweet) discovers a strange gold colored substance near his tribe's camp in Ethiopia; In Present Day, Dr. Jill Roberts visits Daniel Shaw in prison. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

**35 Years Ago**

A knock on Eko Doleke's door startled him as he held his sleeping child, rocking the baby in his arms. He quickly laid her in her crib, than scrambled to the door of his hut, not wanting them to knock again and wake her. He opened the door, and saw a familiar face.

"Marlordore. It is nice to see you."

"It's good to see you as well, Eko."

A lot had happened since Eko and Doka had dug up that mysterious, miraculous golden liquid. A young man had been dispatched to ride quickly to Addis Ababa to bring back someone to inspect the liquid, to see if it was worth anything. That man had stayed not for an hour before he rode off. He never returned. Instead, Marlordore Trinsburg, who was a member of the United States government, and one of the United States scientists had come driving in on a motor vehicle. Marlordore was a short woman, with flaming red hair and a temper to match. It was hidden, but Eko could sense it was there, lurking. He did not want to be on this woman's bad side. The two Americans had been in the Dao-Fambetta's camp for a little over a week now, studying the substance, and making lots of phone calls.

"May we come in?" Eko looked behind Marlordore, and saw two people standing behind her, looking tired. One was a man, of average height, long brown hair, and very white teeth. It was an unnatural white.

"Of course, though please don't be loud, the baby is resting."

They stepped into his hut, and all four of them walked over to the corner furthest away from the crib. It was rather crowded, but it would do. The white toothed man offered Eko his hand, and firmly shook it. "My name is Charles Larkin."

The other person that had came in with Marlordore stepped forward than. She was young, and seemed to be bubbling with excitement. She was a very pretty girl, with long brown hair that shined, even in the fire lit hut. Her face was not ruined with the paste and other accessories that woman from most civilized countries put on. She held out her hand, than withdrew it quickly, and hugged Eko. He held this small creature gently, and patted her back as she talked. "My name is Mary. It's great to meet you!"

Charles rolled his eyes as Marlordore grinned. "You'll have to excuse her," Marlordore exclaimed in an amused tone. "This is her first official time working with the United States Government."

"That doesn't mean you, and this… project aren't in capable hands, Mr. Doleke, don't think that at all," Mary nervously rambled.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Eko said, smiling warmly at her, trying to calm her down before she woke the baby.

"I must say," Charles said, cracking his knuckles as he spoke, "you speak excellent English. How did that happen? You don't exactly live in a place where knowledge like that is easy to come upon."

Eko breathed deeply. This was a long story. He would stick to the bare details, he decided. "When I was eight, I was lost, in the savanna. An old lady found me, and cared for me for two years. She knew English, and taught me."

"Fascinating," Mary said, eyes gleaming.

"Well, now I think its time we get to business." Marlordore was impatient. "How about you show them to the site, Eko, while I got talk to the other scientists who arrived with them."

"How many other scientists came," Eko asked curiously.

"About twenty," Mary said. "All of them are experts, and can contribute to this project."

"That is good to hear." Eko wasn't entirely truthful. He didn't like all this change. He liked his old life. But, if this golden liquid could yield enough profit to send his daughter to a school, to a university, than it was worth it in his eyes. "Shall we go?"

* * *

"So Mary," Eko said as they walked through the surrounding fields on their way to the site of the liquid, "tell me about yourself." Eko noticed Charles give her a quick look before she spoke. Did he want to talk about himself? Eko hoped not. His teeth were so white, it was hard to trust a man with teeth that bright.

"Well, I grew up in Michigan, do you know where that is?"

"I assume it is one of the states of the United States, right?"

"Yes, very good." The girl almost seemed to be skipping as she walked. "I always wanted to help people when I was young, so I joined the C… the United States government."

"Do you work with Marlordore a lot?" Eko and this girl didn't have been common's; Marlordore seemed to be one.

"No this is the first time I had met her. The United States government is… well, it's very large."

"I see." All small talk stopped than because they had reached their destination.

The hole that Dako and Eko had dug was now filled to the brim with the golden colored liquid. Yellow tape surrounded the hole, with the words CAUTION written on it in black lettering, establishing a perimeter. Charles immediately ran up to it, while Mary hung back near the caution tape with Eko.

"I read in the report it is safe to touch," Charles asked.

"Yes. I should hope so, seeing as I was covered in it, when we first dug into it."

Charles dipped his right index finger into it, covering the tip in the bright substance. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it, than put it near his mouth. Eko hastily interrupted.

"Uh, Charles, I did not eat it, so I cannot vouch for your safety if you consume it."

Mary laughed at those words, finding something funny, though Eko could not figure out what. Charles seemingly ignored them, and pulled out a small notebook from his back pocket and started to write in it. Mary turned to look at Eko, and he returned her gaze. For such a small, young person, she had a presence to her, a presence that intrigued Eko.

"Don't mind Charles. He really is a nice guy, but when he's got a job…"

Eko smiled. "Ah, I know this term… one rail mind?"

Mary giggled. "Close enough. Close enough."

* * *

The fire burned brightly as Eko sat on a log outside his hut, watching the flames later that same day. Kila was inside asleep with the baby, as Eko tried to clear his mind. This was something he did every night, before he slept. It seemed to lead to a deeper, more peaceful sleep. He concentrated so much on the flames that he didn't notice the American Mary had sat down beside him until she spoke.

"I always loved camping, when I was a little girl."

Eko turned, surprised at her presence, and the fact she had been able to sneak up on him. Mary's face turned troubled; she mistook his surprise for anger. She stood up to leave. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, Eko."

"No, sit, sit, Miss Mary. You just surprised me, that is all."

A grin appeared on Mary's face. "Good. And it's Mary, not Miss Mary."

Eko shook his head in agreement, and they both watched the flames for a while, until she spoke up again.

"So who are you, Eko? What hidden talents do you have?"

Eko thought for a minute. "They say I can sing."

Mary closed her eyes. "Than sing to me."

"I'm not sure how well it will come out, in the translation…"

"Don't worry about that, I'm sure it will sound great."

Eko paused, than shrugged his shoulders. What did it hurt? He loved to sing. "Okay, this song is about lovers, separated, but still finding a way to connect, to be together. I will sing you the chorus." He cleared his throat as Mary waited eagerly, than his deep, deep voice burst into song.

_"The moon, that's the way I love you,"_

_"It keeps us together all the time."_

_"I swear the moon was put right there,"_

_"Just for me, so I could love you."_

Eko looked down at Mary as he finished, and saw tears in her eyes. He quickly offered her his rag cloth, which she took with a smile. "You have such a beautiful voice, a sweet voice… that is what I will call you. That will be your name."

"What's that," Eko asked, amused.

"Sweet." Mary grasped his large hand with her small one. "You are my Sweet."

* * *

**Back In Present Day**

"And that," Sweet said, in the same soft voice as he had been using the past hour, "is how I met your mother, Chuck, and how I received the name Sweet."

"That's quite an experience," Sarah said. Chuck looked at her, and grasped her hand harder as they walked through the savanna. He was not letting go of her, not after almost losing her. He felt anger swell up inside of him as he looked down at her wrapped up thumb. The man who had tortured her, done that to her, was still alive, he had taken off after the horses. He had better hope Charles Bartowski would never find him.

Casey grunted painfully as his foot hit a rock, causing pain to shoot up his shot leg. "How come none of us have ever heard of this so called mysterious golden substance you found?" Chuck smiled. Casey was a naturally suspicious person, and the fact he had gotten shot didn't help his mood. But Chuck did want to know the rest of the story as well. It appeared that Sweet and Chuck's mother had shared a connection, but Sweet was not the type to cheat on his wife. And of course, Chuck's inner nerd was loving the new golden substance discovery. It was all very interesting.

"That happens later, in the story."

"Well Sweet," Casey said sarcastically, "I'm ready to hear it."

"No," Sweet firmly said.

"What," Casey asked as Chuck and Sarah shared a smile. Casey was used to being the alpha dog in any room, but Sweet's mere presence was… astounding.

"It will be dark and cold soon. We must make camp."

"And than you will continue your story."

"And than I will continue my story, around the fire."

"Yippiee," Chuck yelled. Everyone looked at him, wondering what the outburst was. "What, I love smores."

* * *

Jill Roberts sat in the tree swing, looking out at the lake, contemplating her next move. She was a very logical person, she relied on facts. And the facts said that Daniel Shaw was a very dangerous man.

Her visit with him had been… interesting. His plans were very well laid, and seemed perfect. But than, he was sitting in prison, so he wasn't perfect. He was the devil, in an angel's body. She just had to decide if it was worth the risk.

Jill thought back to Chuck, and the promises Shaw had made. That made up her mind for her. Yes, she was going to do it. She was going to break Daniel Shaw out of prison.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and please, if you have any comments or suggestions, don't be afraid! :) Little bit of set up in this chapter and the next few, but I hope it's interesting enough to work for you guys! :)**


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